


Blood From Stone

by aliscoles



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:59:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 25,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2842163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliscoles/pseuds/aliscoles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short snippets from the life of Mara Cadash. Focusing on her exploits and her developing relationship with the strange spirit-human.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "I Want To Know Your Name"

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to see continuations of any of the short stories, let me know.

“I want to know your name.”

Mara Cadash’s head jerked up. She was working at her desk, going over paperwork Josephine has been on her to do. After a month long trip to the Western Approach, Mara had a lot of work to catch up on. It was, of course, Cole. He was the only one who could sneak up on Mara without her catching him. She tilted her head in response to his question.

“Why would you want to know that?” She asked. 

“You don’t like it. When the call you the Herald. You say you are the Herald. You aren’t sure it's true. You wonder if you’re lying. You know that you have to say it. You should say it. Its better for the Inquisition. Still, you don’t like it. Inquisitor is better, but its not your name. You wonder why heroes always lose their names. But you don’t think you’re a hero. You are though, a hero.”

“I’m just the person making decisions when nobody else would,” Mara disagrees politely.

“Rough, harsh, like sandpaper with everyone but me. Soft, kind, like satin. Why?”

Mara rubbed the bridge of her nose, “You’re not like everyone else - it’s not that I’m babying you Cole- you don’t deserve that.”

“Motives? What does he want? Everyone always wants. Everyone always takes. What will he take from me? His eyes, wide, innocent, sincere. No lie behind them. What if he doesn’t? The first. The only. He’s special.” Cole mumbled under his breath, though Mara could easily hear him in her quiet room. Her blue eyes stared at him while he avoided her gaze. 

“Yes, that about sums it up.” Mara agreed, trying not to marvel over his ability. Their roles switch. Mara pretended to be reading over some form while Cole's eyes burned into her.

“You think everyone else wants something from you.” He stated.

“They do, in their own way.” Mara elaborated, “Cullen wants redemption. Josephine wants her family restored. Leliana wants this task to succeed-”

“She sees the hero when she looks at you.”

“Exactly. Varric is also looking for redemption. He thinks the red lyrium and all of this is his fault. He’s here to try to put that right. Solas is here for himself, he wants to get new experiences to make the Fade more interesting for him and also save the world. Cassandra wants to right past wrongs. She wants to fix the Chantry and the Seekers. She wants the Inquisition to be a symbol of that. She wants me to be a symbol for that. Dorian wants to prove that not all Tevintars are bad. He’s here to be a part of something better, for himself. I have to succeed or else he’s wasted his efforts. Vivinne is here because this is the next step that she needs in whatever social climbing game she's playing. Blackwall is here to prove that Grey Wardens aren’t a lost cause. The Iron Bull is here because we’re paying him and also because the Qunari want him here. Sera is here because she wants something- I’m not sure what yet.”

“Motivations, twisted, but reflecting truth.”

“I know their our friends," Mara tried to explain, understanding that her mind must be difficult for someone like him to understand, "And I care about them. But in their own ways they’re using me. That’s why none of them use my name. I’m the Inquisitor to them because I have to be. My first name doesn’t matter. It’s better no one knows it. The Inquisitor can’t be a person. I’m a symbol. Symbols don’t have names.”

“But you want to hear your name. You need it.” Cole said, insistent. Mara's lips flickered up at his utter wholehearted desire to help her.

“I do, but it won’t help.”

Mara rested her head in her heads and when she raised her head Cole was gone.


	2. Falling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the Storm Coast goes very badly for Mara Cadash.

“Let me go,” Mara instructed Cole. Her legs were dancing in the air, vainly kicking at the cliffside trying to get footing. There was none to be found. Her blue eyes darted down. It wasn’t a sheer fall. There was a ledge not too far away. She could land on that, she hoped.

Cole clutched her wrist so tightly Mara was afraid he was going to snap it. At her command his hand seemed to tighten further. Her bones groaned. Mara was sure he knew he was hurting her but he didn’t slacken his grip. He was afraid of her slipping through his fingers.

“No,” Cole shook his head. His blonde hair was flopping around helplessly. His hat had fallen off, and was somewhere beside him, teetering off the edge. He was laying on his back, holding one of his daggers out blocking an attack from one of the walking corpses they had stumbled onto. Mara wasn’t sure how he managed to hold her from this awkward position. The way his wrist was bent looking terribly uncomfortable. It was impressive.

No matter how much Mara stretched her free hand couldn’t reach the cliffside and the edge was sheer nothing to grab onto. There was no one she could grab on and there was no way Cole could pull her to safety before he was cut in two. "You have to, Cole. You can’t protect us both.” Mara’s voice dropped in volume, a soft comforting whisper, “It’s okay.”

“ **No**.” Cole insisted, his voice raising in volume. Cole struggled against the sword bearing down on him. Mara knew his arm couldn’t hold it at bay for long. Mara shook her head in frustration. Desperation rising up in her. He was going to get cut in half in front of her because he was too stubborn to let her fall. She wasn’t about to watch him die. Nobody was going to die for her in front of her. She had seen and heard about to many acts of foolish bravery on behalf of the Inquisition and the Inquisitor. She struggled to raise herself up. Her arm muscled screamed at the dead lift she was endeavoring to do and the muscles in her stomach tightened painfully. Mara managed to raise herself enough that her lips brushed his knuckles in a soft apologetic kiss. Wisps of her blonde hair tickled the soft skin of his hand and then Mara bite down.

Cole yelped in alarm releasing her on instinct. Free from his grasp, Mara began to fall. His hand bumbled trying to grasp her again. Their fingers brushed but Cole’s reflexes were just a fraction to slow to grasp her again, “NO!” He screamed, terror potent in his voice.

Mara hurtled down. Her compact body crashed into the ledge. Her body slammed down, sending blinding white stars into her vision. Mara was having trouble telling up from down and understanding what had happened. There was cracking noise that set Mara's head straight and made her stomach drop. Then suddenly the ledge broke free from the cliffside and began to rapidly slide down. Mara vainly clutched at the side of the ledge trying everything in her power to keep a hold on her only safety line. A large outcropping broke the falling ledge that Mara was clinging to in half, dislodging her and throwing her away like discarded trash. Her body smashed into the the cliffside then harshly slid down it, buffeted by the rough rocks.

By this point, Mara’s vision was a blur of brown and black with splashes of the blue sky. Her body slammed into an outcropping and there was another crashing sound of rocks, then she was free falling. This time she was falling straight down into blackness. A scream tore from her lips but it was quickly smothered as her mouth slammed down onto a pile of rocks. She landed on stone with a crash that completely disoriented her.

Mara laid on the stone floor of the cave she had fallen into. She wasn’t sure how long she laid there. The hole she had fallen through had been closed up by the shower of rocks her fall down the cliffside had dislodged. Everything was completely black and she was wasn’t sure when she was awake or when she was unconscious, she slipped seamlessly between the two several times. Slowly her strength came back to her and she shakily rose to her feet.

Her tightly bound hair was now loose around her shoulders and when she put her fingers to her face. Her fingers brushed the sticky blood that dripped from her lips and various gashes that littered her face. As soon as her head stopped spinning, Mara dashed up the way she had fallen. The pebbles scattered around her feet and hands as she tried to climb the loose rocks that lead up to the hole she had made that had been promptly closed up. She barely managed to make it up as the rocks and pebbles crumbled under her feet threatening to fall and make a trip to the ceiling impossible. Mara's already cut and battered fists slammed into the newly formed ceiling. The pain was intense, blinding Mara momentarily but she ignored the pain, “Cole?!” she screamed hoping her friends were looking for her and were nearby, “Dorian! Iron Bull!!” She screamed pounding her fists agains the ceiling. All she managed to accomplish was dislodging some dust that fell into her eyes and some small pebbles to shower her face. “Maker’s balls!” She swore, resting her face against the rough surface. She took a deep breathe before she resumed screaming for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! Not technically a Christmas themed story, because I'm not that sort of gal. Although I guess it does, have some Christmas themes in that its might be a bit of redemption piece. Maybe.


	3. Falling Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And she thought letting go of Cole's hand would be the hard part

“Scream all you want, no one can hear you.”

The sentence wasn’t intimidating in it’s self. Mara had been threatened as a member of the Carta so many times it was almost impossible to intimidate her at this point. However, when the voice wasn’t coming from a person or any body that Mara could locate in the dark that was intimidating. The voice was echoing around the cavern, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. The statement immediately chilled her to the bone and her hoarse voice died on her lips. She whirled around, blonde hair flying. The lighting was poor, only bits of light shone through some the rocks. The light was fading from a bright yellow to a dusty orange. It would be nightfall soon and the chances of her friends finding her alive were slowly waning. She couldn’t see who was speaking. 

“Who said that?!” She demanded after a few moments. 

The disembodied voice  _laughed_ in reply _._

_“Not a good sign…”_  Mara thought grimly, her lips pushing tight together. 

“You would not be able to pronounce it if I told you.”

Mara’s brows creased. This was another sign that this thing’s presence was bad and she shouldn’t be encouraging it. She turned her mind back to the task at hand, the thing she could deal with. There was no exiting the way she came so she needed to find a new way. Mara slid down the loose rocks she had been perched on and onto the floor where she had fallen onto. She began pushing her glove hands against where she perceived the walls to be, trying to have a gap or an exit. She met with little success as she worked her way around her entrapment, a misshapen circle, until her hands pressed against a part of the wall that gave a little. Mara pushed more firmly and the wall began to dissolve in a shower of pebbles. Despite the dust cloud that closed up her lungs, a hoarse cheer tore from her lips. Perhaps she wouldn’t die in this hole. 

The way forward was narrow. Mara was barely able to squeeze through. She fell into an underground passage way, her knees scrapping uncomfortably against the ground as her hands smacked the stone floor to stop her face forward descent. Her hands stung at the contact. They were her most needed ally if she was going to get out alive and they had been the most roughly treated during her fall. Her back was also turning against her. Her fall had broken her bow and shattered into pieces along with scattering all the arrows in her quiver. Her fall had also shattered her quiver, breaking it against her back. Mara had no mirror to examine her back but it felt like she had a large collection of bruises from landing on her quiver and bow. Luckily, Mara didn't feel any splinters, her armor had protected her in that regard. Gathering her strength Mara got to her feet and began to feel her way way forward and came to a wall. Turning to the left then the right she discovered that the way forward went on in both directions. She couldn’t tell for how far. Mara had a choice to make. She turned to the right.

“I wouldn’t go that way,” the disembodied voice said. 

Mara jumped at the voice. On instinct she looked around, although she knew it wouldn’t do any good, “Why wouldn’t you?” She asked after a few moments.

The voice chuckled as if she amused it by answering it, “You won’t get out that way. You’ll just get lost and then die.”

That got, her attention, “What will I get if I go right, then?” She asked, suspicious of this voice. 

“You might make it out.” The voice answered. 

“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” Mara asked. 

“Why would I lie?”

“I don’t know, why would you?” Mara replied. 

The disembodied voice laughed again. Mara shuddered at the sound. She couldn’t say it sounded exactly sinister but something about it grated against her and made her want to run. 

“I like you,” the voice told her. Mara wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. 

Mara began to move to the right slowly, one hand out in front of her to feel for a wall. She moved her hand from side to side brushing against the far too narrow passage way she was traversing. She had to be sure if there were any branch paths.

It wasn’t the silence that was killing her. It was the little noises. Her feet scraping against the ground. The sound of her skin brushing against the rough material of the caves. Pebbles scattered as her feet created a grating sound that drove her to madness. 

“What are you?” She couldn’t help but ask, calling out into the darkness. Being alone in the darkness, she felt the need to reach out and connect with anything. 

“The Helper,” the voice answered back. 

“‘The Helper’?” Mara repeated in a skeptical tone. It was a deceptively nice name, Mara didn't trust it for a second. 

“It’s a title, one you can clearly repeat.” 

“And you want to help me?” Mara asked, still skeptical. If it were a demon it would want something in return. 

“I’ve already have.”

“What do you want in return?”

“You’re a suspicious mite, aren’t you?” The voice sounded amused instead of irritated like Mara expected. 

“What, you don’t want anything?” Mara asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

“I can help you get out of there,” the voice offered.

“In exchange for what?” Mara pressed, wanting an answer. 

“One of these days, sometime in the far future, I will come. Not for you but for someone close to you. I ask you do nothing but turn your head. Turn away and do not stop me. In reality, you have to do nothing at. Do nothing about it, when I come.”

 If she didn’t take this offer, she wouldn’t be there to turn away and this demon would take what it wanted. What did it matter if she took the deal?  _“No,”_ she argued with herself _, “I can’t just turn my head. I can’t just let something happen. I’ve done that too much in life. If I’m dead that’s one thing. Being there and doing nothing is the same as doing whatever this thing is going to do.”_

Mara’s hand gripped the wall, before closing into a tight fist. Her leather glove scrapped against the rock, damaging it further, “No,” she breathed, nearly cursing herself in the next breath. Her voice came out weak and hesitant. Her usual iron tone was lost.

‘The Helper’  _laughed_ , “You say that now, little one, but for how long will your will last out. In the dark? All alone?” 

“My friends are coming for me,” Mara protested bravely. 

‘The Helper’ laughed again, “Of course they are, dear,” it said condescendingly, “And how long have you been unconscious? Where are your friends now?”

Mara’s stomach dropped low. How long  _had_  she been unconscious? She had been fading in and out for a while. Had it just been a few hours or had it been days? What if her friends had been looking for hours or days? What if they thought she was dead. It was a long fall and if they hadn't seen any signs of survival would they just assume the worst? 

“I can find my own way out.” Mara insisted, her voice sounding distant to her. 

“Oh can you now? Go on then, you should be amusing to watch.”

Mara’s cheeks burned in embarrassment and anger. She would prove this ‘Helper’ wrong.


	4. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: An unexpected guest arrives to Skyhold. 
> 
> Pairing: Slight ColexMara, friendship MaraxAdvisors

The moment Mara heard the noise, she knew it was over. It was the sound of everything coming to an end. It was a rushing noise that was muted, like hearing waves crashing while you’re underwater. Mara felt like she was underwater, drowning. Josephine’s soft brown eyes were bulging at the news Mara had just delivered. 

“Excuse me, Inquisitor,” she spluttered, “I believe I must have just misunderstood-”

“You didn’t,” Mara answered bluntly, “I said that the man isn’t lying. He’s my fiancee.” 

Leliana didn’t say a word, she just sat down heavily. Mara was surprised that the Carta had managed to keep this a secret from her or perhaps Leliana hadn’t been as detailed in her examination of Mara’s previous life. Either way, the news took even the Nightingale by surprise. 

Cullen slammed an armored hand on the table, “You’re engaged and you never told us?” He demanded. 

Mara was so estranged from the moment, she didn’t even jump at the loud, sudden sound, “It never came up,” she answered in a lame tone. 

“What does he want?” Cassandra demanded, passing back and forth. 

“To marry the Inquisitor, no doubt,” Leliana said, recovering from her shock enough to speak, “His timing is very apt. He waited until you became world renowned. First at Adamant and then at the Winter Palace.” 

“Yes, if I were just a rebel heretic about to be put down, I doubt he would have surfaced,” Mara agreed. Her head felt fuzzy and she felt unconnected from the moment. 

“You don’t have to marry him, Inquisitor. From your face I can this was an arranged circumstance, yes?” Josephine asked as tactfully as she could. 

Mara nodded her head, seeming to be barely in the moment.

Cassandra put her hand on the dwarf’s shoulder, startling her out of her stupor. Mara turned her head upward to look at the Navarran princess, “You don’t have to marry him.” Cassandra said her voice was as soft as Cassandra was capable of being. 

Josephine immediately jumped in, “That’s completely correct, betrothals end all the time. Circumstances change.”

Mara nodded her head, “I have to marry him.” She words disagreeing with her body language. 

Everyone in the room almost fell over. Cullen slammed his fist into the table, “Haven’t you been listening at all?” He demanded angrily. 

Mara looked up from the floor, where her eyes had fallen, “I am. You don’t understand Carta politics. He could make things very dangerous for my family. It’s better to just marry him.” 

"You could bring your family here," Josephine offered.

Mara raised an eyebrow, "You would like me to bring my family, most of whom are wanted for more than one offense, who are lyrium dealing crooks, to Skyhold?" 

"Okay, scratch that idea. But we could send members of the Inquisition to offer them protection."

"No you can't, we can't get involved in that sort of dealings. They'd be protecting them from more than just a spurned fiancee."

"So you marrying him is better?" Culle demanded. 

"Yes, because his family has a cover business that is legit. They actually hide their Carta connections pretty well. It wouldn't be a scandal for me to marry him."

“Can you even trust him?” Cassandra demanded.

“Depends on what you want to trust him with,” Mara answered. 

“Is he dangerous to you?”

“I don’t think so…” 

After an hour of fruitless arguing with Mara, her advisors and Cassandra filed out of the room each one displeased with Mara’s firm stance on the matter. Mara stayed behind, resting her elbows on the war table.

“You don’t want to marry him,” Cole’s voice came from behind her. Mara didn’t look up, “You shouldn’t marry him.” 

“Why not?” Mara asked, turning her head to face him. 

“He makes you unhappy.” 

“Maybe he won’t always.”

“He hurts you now. He hurt you in the past.”

“We’ve been engaged since we were children. Children are mean. It wasn’t serious.”

“Scared. I don’t want to marry him. Voice are so far away. Muddled, everything’s muddled. Is this what drowning is like? I’d rather die then marry him. My family. He could hurt them, if he wanted. He could help them, if I gave him a reason. So I’ll give him a reason. I have to marry him.”

“I thought you’d like that. I’m helping people.”

“You’re hurting yourself.” 

“Sometimes you have to hurt to help.”

“I don’t understand. Helping, helps.”

“Not always, Cole.”

“I want to help you.” Cole insisted. 

“Then… just help me get through this…” Mara turned around and faced him. Cole didn’t seemed surprised by the tears in her eyes.

He took a step forward, rubbing her arms softly, “Yes.” He agreed.

Mara took a step forward, throwing her arms around him. Her head buried into his ratty shirt and she didn’t even notice all the holes or whatever stains had gathered since the last time she and Josephine made him wash it. For the first time since was five Mara almost cried. She hugged him tightly, her shoulders shaking. A few of the tears that had gathered in her eyes were shaken from her eyes and slipped down her cheeks but no tears joined them. She couldn’t cry. Carta thugs didn’t cry. 

Cole’s arms encircled her slowly, rubbing her back comfortingly, like she needed to be help. Cole always knew what she needed. Mara hiccuped and shook harder but for the first time in a long time she felt safe. It wouldn’t last, Mara thought, as her arms tightened around him, but for right now it was nice.


	5. AU: Geometric Irony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mara Cadash is put under an awful spell that forces her to fall in love with a stranger and the only way to lift the spell is for the stranger reciprocate her love. Things go further awry when the stranger Mara is besotted with turns out to be under the same spell, only he’s in love with someone else. A supposed empath/psychic named Cole is the only one who knows Mara’s situation. Modern!Thedas!AU. Daily Odd Prompt. Prompt by maxkirin (tumblr).
> 
> Pairings: mentioned MaraxBlackwall, mentioned BlackwallxJosephine, ColexMara

“What, are you going to do?” Mara looked up from the bar she was wiping down. The Cadash Bar was empty except for the boy with the floppy hat. She was getting ready for closing. Her lips quirked up at the appearance of the young man. He was the only person who came to her bar for her. He was a strange sort, claiming to be some sort of psychic empath. Mara didn't formerly acknowledge his abilities, though she wouldn't deny, he was very good at guessing - if it was guessing.

“No hats inside, Cole,” Mara instructed, dodging the question, and hiding the fact she was pleased to see him.

Cole’s lips pulled down and he slipped the hat off his head, hugging it to his chest. If the hat weren’t so large he would look like a southern gentlemen. As it was, the brim of his hat looked like it was digging into his chin and sometimes popped up and pressed against his cheek. It was an amusing sight that Mara endeavored to not laugh at.

“You’re hurting. You have to do something.” Cole said, concern in his voice. Mara slapped her rag down and looked up at him with exasperation. All of the minor irritations of the day and her frustration at being forced to talk about this boiled up at once, “Okay Mister Empath, what would you suggest I do?” She asked, “I don’t even know Blackwall.”

“He’s a carpenter and he loves the Grey Warden series.” Cole told her, in his ‘I’m being helpful’ tone. To be fair, that was more than she knew previously.

“Yes, yes. His job and his favorite book series. Now I know enough to get him to fall in love with me!" Mara threw her hands up in the hair, her tone was sarcastic, luckily Cole had known her long enough to being to pick up on sarcasm so he didn't get his hopes up for nothing, "All I know about Blackwall is I saw him after that witch cursed me and I fell in love. He’s under the same spell. He cannot return my love and there’s no way to break the spell.”

“The dove sits in its cage, singing mournful for its lost love. It refuses food in dedication to its song. One day the singing stops.”

“I’m not a mourning dove, Cole.” Mara explained, after knowing him for as long as she had she could interrupt his weird ramblings a bit. She rubbed her temples in frustration. She wasn't sure if it was directed at Cole or just her situation in general, “Because Blackwall isn’t my mate. He’s in love with that Montilyet girl.”

Mara sighed, trying to resume her task, “The only way I get Blackwall is if I help him get Josephine Montilyet and then break them up and seduce him,” she explained, showing that she had given this some thought, as she rubbed the same spot on her bar counter, “First of all, that’s a little dark even for me. Second of all, I don’t see you with your boy scoutness allowing me to do that. Third of all, I don’t know if my heart could take that.” She slammed the rag on the table, “This is so messed up!” She yelled, anger burning in her. This wasn’t fair. She was doomed because she happened to look to the left after she was cursed. If she would have looked to right she would have fallen in love with Anders who ran the Free Clinic, at least that was less likely to end in heart break.

Cole watched her, “What’s a boy scout?” He asked.

Mara laughed, all of the tension releasing from her body, “Never mind, Cole.”

She leaned her elbows on the table and watched Cole.

“What would you do?” She asked.

“I don’t understand?”

“If you were me, what would you do?”

“If I were you, I’d be a boy and I’d be in love with a girl.”

Mara rubbed the bridge of her nose, “Never mind…”

“Sorry, I didn’t help? Did I? I did it wrong.”

“You don’t always have to help Cole. I like it when you’re just you. It’s weird when you try to change yourself and what you would say just to help.”

“But everyone does that.” Cole pointed out, and Mara had to admit he was right. 

Mara smiled a sad smile, “I guess, but not like you do.”

“You’re sad.”

“It’s just unrequited love.” Mara sighed, giving up on cleaning her bar. She jumped up on the bar and swung her small legs over dangling them. Cole tilted her his head back slightly so he could still look at her.

“Did you want a drink, Cole?” Mara offered, needing to keep talking to fill the silence.

Cole looked at her bemused, “You don’t mean that question. You just want to keep talking. You said I shouldn’t ever get drunk.”

“One drink doesn’t mean drunk.” Mara said, dodging his accurate assessment.

“You don’t want-”

“What do _you_ want, Cole?” Mara asked cutting him off.

Cole looked at her confused, “I don’t understand.”

Mara shook her head, “Do you _want_ a drink?”

Cole looked like a deer caught in the headlights, “Yes?”

Mara was pretty sure he was only saying yes because now she wanted him to say yes. But she took it anyway, because she did want him to say yes. She threw her legs back over the counter and started mixing him a drink that would taste good without getting him hammered. He was definitely a lightweight.

She made the drink in silence and Cole watched her silently.

“You know,” Mara said, breaking the silence, “Blackwall comes in here sometimes, to wallow in his own unrequited love…” she sat the drink down in front of him. Cole examined it like a cat, his eyes flickering up to hers with concern.

“You hate to see him so upset….” Cole assessed accurately, again.

Mara turned around and leaned her elbows against the counter, looking at all the bottle of alcohol on her wall. She let out a hallow laugh as she realized what she wanted to do.

“You want to help even though it will hurt you.” Cole stated sadly. She didn't know how he did that. It couldn't just be that he knew her well. He could do that before they were friends. 

“It would hurt," Mara admitted, "but it would also help.” 

“You love him. Seeing him happy would help.” Cole's tone was so sad, Mara's heart almost broke. Then she realizes she was feeling sorry for her, and she quickly amended the self pity. 

“Yeah…”

“I want to help you.” Cole said, taking a timid sip of his drink.

Mara smiled at him, but it was a bittersweet smile, “Alright, thanks, Cole.”

“Thank you, for the drink and for letting me help.”

Mara shook her head in bemusement. Only Cole would thank her for letting him help, “No problem, Cole.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want extensions to any stories, let me know. I may write part 2s on my own, but I wouldn't count on it, because they might not be to the particular ones you want and it might take me a while to get around to it.


	6. AU: Subject 0017

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Another AU? Yes, another AU. Subject 0017 is an experiment gone wrong. She’s been locked inside a containment cell and has had no human contact for a long time. Then one day the doors open. 
> 
> Pairings: None currently

She woke up. She woke up in the same room she always woke up in, in a completely whitewashed room, on a too firm mattress, on a bed that was bolted to the floor. Her room was a tiny cell, with no windows and one swinging light that turned on and off automatically. She wasn’t sure what times it turned off. It felt consistent. She had tried to count the hours and she had it roughly figured that it stayed off for about 9 hours. She wasn’t sure if it varied but it didn’t feel like it. The floor and the walls and ceiling appeared to be made out of the same material. It was white and colorless and always cool to the touch. The room was always the same temperature. 

On the other side of the room there a bookshelf with exactly 12 books: “Sophie’s Choice” by William Styron, “The Ides of March” by Thornton Wilder, “The Agony and the Ecstasy” by Irving Stone, “The Exorcist” by William Peter Blatty, “The Great Gatsby” by F. Scott Fitzgerald, “Crime and Punishment” by Fyodor Dostoyevsky, “The Sound and the Fury” by William Faulkner, “To the Lighthouse” by Virginia Woolf, “The Trial” by Franz Kafka, “One Thousand and One Nights”, “The Stranger” by Albert Camus, and “Paradise Lost” by John Milton. Besides all being depressing, to different degrees, and all being good, to different degrees, there was no connection between the books besides the fact that they were fiction.  

They had taught her a lot of things about the way the world was supposed to work. Like that she should have a family and a name. She couldn’t give herself a family but she had given herself a name, ‘Mara’. Mara wasn’t sure if it was a real name. None of her characters had that name, but she hadn’t wanted to name herself after them. They were like people, her friends, she wasn’t going to steal their names, so she made one up. It was a pleasant sound at least. The bookshelf was also bolted down. 

In the corner of the room was a toilet, a sink, and a small faucet which she could bath with. Towels, changes of clothes, toilet paper, and other basic necessities were dropped into her room through a metal drawer weekly. Her clothing was always the same, a white button up shirt and white pants. There was no mirror in her room and nothing, with the exception of the books, was any color but white. 

Nobody had been in her room for 180 days. She kept count by caving the wall of her cell with a spring she had pried loose from her bed. Her count wasn’t accurate, it had taken her a while to realize that nobody was coming back. A week, a few days, Mara wasn’t sure. She had another count of how long she had been held in this cell. It was off by a few months, Mara was sure, maybe longer. That one had too many marks for her to count. Before that, Mara couldn’t remember. She remembered labs, people in masks, pain. Then her hand started to glow. Then she was locked up in her cell and then she was left. 

Every day was like the other. Mara woke up. There was food waiting for her in the metal drawer. She ate then put the dishes back in the drawer. She would bath, brush her hair and teeth. Then she would read a book, or sketch on the walls. Then she would smell food again and she would eat her second meal of the day. Then she would exercise, running laps in her tiny cell or doing exercises. She sung songs that she made up or beat her feet in the ground to rhythms she made up. By the time she was tired there would be more food. She would eat again, and then get ready for bed. If she timed it right, she would just be getting into bed and have maybe time to read one chapter before the lights went out. Then she went to bed and was woken by the light the next day. 

Today was different. Mara didn’t wake up because the single lightbulb turned on. Instead she woke up because she was bathed in red light. Mara jerked awake. Everything was pulsing with a red light. She swung her head about her room, except for the strange red blaring light everything was the same. 

“Is this some sort of an alarm?” Mara wondered.

As soon as Mara was getting used to the red light, a blaring sound began. Mara covered her ears and was tempted to hide her face in her pillow. She had no idea what was going on. She never experienced anything like this before. Then she heard the sound of air escaping like someone had put a lot of pressure on a mattress and suddenly released the pressure. It was coming from the door that Mara had tried to pry open many times. Perhaps the door had unlocked, Mara wondered. She released her ears and crawled out of bed. The floor was cold like always but Mara barely noticed. Curious and hopeful, Mara got up and padded across the cold floor to the door. 

Hesitantly she reached for the door. Her hand slowly grasped the handle and she turned it _._ Mara could hardly believe it. The handle never turned no matter how hard Mara pulled. For a moment she just stood there. Then she pulled. And remarkably, the door  _opened_. More surprising then the door opening was the water that rushed in when she did. It didn’t even come up to her ankles but the water was so cold Mara jumped at the sensation, much colder than the floor. Concern marked itself on Mara’s face. 

“Just what is going on?” She wondered, stepping out into the hallway. The water was out there as well, the same amount that rushed in. It didn’t even crest over the top of her ankle. The hallway was the same annoying white walls and floor of her cell. There was nobody running around frantically. There was nobody in general. Not that Mara let that ruin her moment, in fact, it rather made it. There was nobody to lock her back in her cell. And she was outside of her cell for the first time in her entire memory. The hallway ran in both directions for a long ways. To the right the hall ended, to the left the hall turned. There were windows though at the ends of the hallway, “Outside!” she heart screamed, imagining what nature would be like in real life and in the flesh. 

Mara took another step before she thought about her friends, her books. Mara turned around. She couldn’t leave them, but she couldn’t carry them all. She went back into her room and stared at her bookshelf agonizing for a moment. Then she realized that she didn’t know how long her window of opportunity was. At any moment someone could run over and slam her door shut. She reached forward and blindly grabbed “One Thousand and One Nights” and “Paradise Lost”. These two her favorites she had read them many more times than the others. If everything went well she would come back for the others. But just in case she couldn’t come back she took these two. Mara headed out of her cell for the second time, apprehensive but giddy at the same time. 


	7. Dungeon or Basement?

“I told you he had a dungeon,” Mara said smugly. Both she and Cole were chained to the cold stone walls. The only light that shone through was through tiny horizontal windows that offered no view and little light.

Cole looked around appraisingly, “I don’t know if this counts as a dungeon.” They were after all only one floor underground. They were chained to walls yes, but there were old rusty tools and furniture stored not too far away from them. It was more like a makeshift dungeon or a converted basement.

“It’s creepy and underground. What more do you need?” Mara asked, getting straight to business. She swung her legs up until the rested above her head head and against the wall she was chained to.

“What are you doing?” Cole asked curiously. 

“Breaking out,” Mara responded, her face turning red as her muscles protested her moments. Slowly she rolled her legs forward until her knees were bent and resting against the wall. Then she slowly slid her legs down until her fingers could just reach the top of her boots, “I have my lock picking kit in my boots.”

“You wore it on your hip.”

“What you think I just proudly display my  _only_  pair of lock picking equipment?”

Cole fell silent. Mara shook her boots trying not to think about how it felt like she was wiggling her butt, with Cole in the room. At least she had an excuse for her red cheeks. She felt the satisfaction of the cool metal falling into her hand. She swung her legs back down and shook her fist triumphantly. 

Cole smiled at her in return, “You got it!” He exclaimed excitedly. 

“Yes, yes I did. Now time to pick my way out of here!” Mara rolled onto her toes, relieving some of the pressure on her wrists so she could get a better angle for her work. 

Cole tilted his head watching Mara while she worked. Mara’s blue eyes flickered over to Cole’s. Was it just her imagination or did his eyes look a fraction or so lower then they should be? A flush developed on her face, “What are you looking at?” She yelped accusingly. 

Cole tilted his head to the side, “You?” He answered sounding confused. Mara’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She shouldn’t have assumed the worst. Cole was still getting used to being human. He probably wasn’t having those sort of thoughts yet. She shook her head and went back to work. 

After a few minutes she heard the satisfying click of her cuffs, “Haha!” she exclaimed, “Success.” The pressure on her wrists went slack and she slipped her wrists out. Padding across the floor she discovered another problem. 

“You don’t have a plan for reaching my shackles,” Cole pointed out. 

“I’m working on it!" Mara said defensively, "Though…" she admitted after a moment, "I am open for suggestions.” 

Mara looked around everywhere for something to stand up on. Then she heard the door swing up. Mara panicked and tried to look for somewhere to hide. She hadn’t even thought about finding her missing bow. She was weaponless and there was a guard coming!

“Your Inquisitorialness?” Varric’s voice came from up the stairs. 

“Varric?” Mara asked, relief flooding her.

“What are you and Cole doing in the dungeon, I thought you’d too would be out by now.”

Mara turned her head to face Cole, “Ha,” she proclaimed proudly. 

Cole shook his head but smiled nonetheless.

“Come on, Varric. I need your help,” Mara announced. Varric walked over and looked over the situation.

“Oh, I see your problem.”

Mara nodded her head, “Not easy, no? Let me get on your shoulders.”

“Wait, what?” Mara didn’t wait for his approval, she was already trying to scramble onto his shoulders. Varric, knowing that it was better to let the Inquisitor to have her way once she had made up her mind, bent down to help her. 

Mara on Varric’s shoulders was just tall enough to reach Cole’s shackles, “Haha!” Mara exclaimed triumphantly. Cole chuckled softly at her enthusiasm. Not wanting to waste any time, Mara began to lock pick Cole’s shackles. 

“Hurry up, Inquisitor,” Varric complained. 

“Is that a comment on my weight or your strength?” Mara asked, looking down at Varric. She felt Varric’s muscles tense beneath her legs. 

“Neither, Sparkler and Tiny can’t hold off his guy’s never ending supply of soldiers forever.”  

“I’m working on it, just hold still.” Mara instructed without pity for Varric’s plight. 

“Nobody respects the dwarf…”

“He says to the dwarf.”

“Hey, that’s my thing!”

Mara chuckled under her breath and her laughter caused her shake a bit on Varric’s shoulders. Her weight slide forward and suddenly she was bumping noses with Cole. Blue clashed with blue as the two befuddled young adults stared at each other.

“Whoops, sorry,” Mara apologized her cheeks beginning to feel warm. She slide her weight back, putting some space between herself and Cole. Though now she was painfully aware of how close their faces were.

“Soft warm wind on my cheek. Pale and pallor but soft. Only for a moment, we touch. Thin and wide. Pale like satin. Would they be soft? Chains rattling. How far could he lean? How far could I?”

Varric chuckled under his breath. 

“I want to lean forward. Eyes, watching, judgement. I-”

“Okay Cole that’s enough!!” Mara exclaimed, slapping her hand over his mouth with slightly too much force that made her feel immediately guilty, “Be quiet or I swear I will leave you.” She removed her hand and ignored her glowing cheeks.

“No, you wouldn’t.” Cole immediately said. 

Mara shook her head and focused on her task. Varric chuckled beneath her hard, causing her to sway slightly. She tightened her thighs around his neck for more than one reason. 

“Ack, can’t breathe, Cadash.” Varric rasped.

“I know,” she responded in a tone too sweet to be sincere, “I was worried I would fall off. You’re shaking like a leaf.” The threat was barely masked. She released the pressure, “Don’t mention this, ever, dwarf,” she threatened.

“Never, Inquisitor,” Varric swore in a dramatic tone that promised trouble. 


	8. AU: The Boy in the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sullen, teenage Mara discovers a strange creature down on family's privately owned beach.

"I don't believe in mermaids, I don't believe in mermaids…" Mara chanted, looking purposefully away from the boy half submerged in the water. "You can keep saying that…" The boy's voice said, breaking through Mara's mantra and destroying the illusion she was attempting to paint. Mara, who was purposefully facing away from him (as if she could pretend he was just a trick of the light in ther corner of her vision) looked sideways at him. Blue met blue as their gazes connected

"I won't go away."

"Mermaids aren't real," Mara insisted, throwing her hands up in the air, as if her verbally denying his existence would make him go away. And as the boy had just told her. He wouldn't. "I'm Cole," the merman told her, completely ignoring her steadfast denial of his existence. "Mara," she replied, before realizing she was introducing herself to a figment of her imagination. Her body visible recoiled from her words as if she were trying to pull them back into her. She groaned, playing along with illusion was not going to help.

"I'm real," 'Cole' told her. "Oh yeah?" Mara challenged, "Then how can you read my mind! Mermaid magic?!" She demanded. Cole shrugged his boney shoulders. Mara fought against her baser instincts that urged her to examine his lean muscles. "I can tell from you face. I can't read minds. But I can tell what people are feeling. I don't know how. I just can." He told her.

Mara shook her head in disbelief at his volunteered information. She was officially losing her mind. She had to hand it to herself. This was a very well thought out delusion. Although she would think her mind would give her a delusion she would enjoy instead of freaking her out by creating a merman.

There was an awkward distance between them for two people having a conversation. Cole was leaning up against the small drop from the abandoned pier to the ocean. Mara was on the solid ground a few paces away, high up on a rock where she had fled to when Cole had first made his appearance.

"Do you come up to visit here often?" She asked suspiciously. There was nothing else for her to do. She couldn't go back to her family after their huge fight, at least not yet. She might as well indulge in her this delusion. "Yes," Cole replied, "But they don't remember me. I can make people forget."

"Handy ability," Mara said. It would explain why nobody was claiming that mermaids existed. Outside of crazy people. Mara shook her head. Nobody was claiming to see mermaids because they didn't exist. This was all in her head. Cole nodded not fully understanding that Mara wasn't really complimenting him, "I want to help."

"Help?" Mara asked, not sounding hostile, just confused.

"Your sadness, was calling out to me."

"Sadness? I'm not sad," Mara denied with a frown.

"Pressure everywhere. Pushing me down. Why don't they leave me alone? So much to do. So much to prove. How can I ever live up to what they want from me? Changing, molding me. I just want to be me."

"Shut up," Mara's voice cracked. Those weren't Cole's words they were her words, that she whispered to herself in the back of her mind. He was speaking words that she had never dared speak out loud. Those words weren't meant to breath air. "Your drowning," Cole said quietly, "You don't have to."

"Yes, I do! I mean I don't- I'm not drowning!" Mara exclaimed, her words all over the place. It was unnerving to have her thoughts thrown in her face. "You're lying." Cole stated it as a fact.

Mara groaned, "My parents expect me to be something great. Not just great, but their definition of great. I have to take over the family business because, I don't know why. I'm like my father?"

"You don't want to be."

"Wanting doesn't change reality."

"I hate him. He's older. He's supposed to protect me. But I protect him."

"Eric, my brother," Mara sighed, "I don't want to talk about him."

"You don't really hate him but you do. I don't understand."

"Do you have any siblings?" Mara asked, suspecting the answer. "No." Cole answered, sounding confused. "Then you can't understand." Mara said her tone cold. She sat down on the rock instead of crouching awkwardly on it and hugged her knees to her chest. The air was warm, it was summer on the island. It blew through her blonde locks, like a comforting breeze. She liked the ocean.

"I know somewhere you could go that would make you feel better." Cole offered sounding hopeful. "I bet you say that to all the girls," Mara accused. Maybe she was starting to believe in his existence but that didn't mean she trusted him. Her fingers gripped the groves of the large rock she was perched on tighter. Cole frowned, "This wouldn't have helped the other girls…. I said something wrong didn't I? I could make you forget and try again… but that wouldn't help. You might remember a bit and that would hurt you more."

"What's it like being a mermaid?" Mara asked, cutting off his rant. She had no idea what he was talking about and instead of asking him and likely getting more confused she changed the subject. Cole stared at her blankly for a few minutes and the his lips quirked up when he realized that he had helped a bit, "Like being a person, except underwater." Mara's lips quirked up at his blunt and straightforward answer. "How dangerous is it?" Mara asked curiously. She remembered a documentary she had watched on the Ocean once. They had claimed that it was one of the most dangerous places on Thedas. "You have to watch out for sharks," was Cole's reply. Mara  _did_  laugh at that.

They continued to talk until it began to get dark. Mara drifted closer to Cole as they talked. Holding a conversation from several feet away was rather awkward. Now she sat on the pier in front of him. Cole was leaning his upper half against the pier, his pale arms making a stark contrast to her tanned legs that lay beside his. Mara had rolled up her long skirt, exposing some of her thighs so that she could dangle her feet in the water.

Mara found herself strangely enchanted by the boy. She had never met someone so odd, yet so enjoyable to talk to. He was very intune to what she was feeling, and for someone like Mara who avoided showing any reaction when she was bothered by something (which usually made conversations awkward and sometimes hurtful to her) it was perfect. Yes, it was weird mermaid magic, but it was still very useful. Besides his abilities, Cole himself was interesting. His way at looking at the world was so strange, Mara couldn't help constantly probing him for his take on things. Perhaps he was a bit naive, Mara knew that some people would have ridden him off as a child. They would have missed the subtleties of his character that she found so intriguing

"Splash of gold and red, dying beautiful, but leaves the world cold and empty. Strings of attachments, wanted and not, pull." Cole said, voicing Mara's thoughts aloud again in his weird interpretation. Mara shook her head. Only Cole would make 'the sun went down I have to go home' sound like some sort of epic adventure. "Yeah, it's time for me to go home," she supplied pointlessly. She wasn't sure why she said it, when they both already knew it.

Cole gives her a soft smile that makes Mara's heart skip a beat. Then he blinks and tilts his head. For a second Mara felt her stomach drop. She hoped he didn't see or feel or whatever he does to that thought that flickered across her mind. Then he smiled again, so bright and yet soft that Mara's pretty sure her heart just stopped altogether, "Oh," he said, his voice quiet almost a whisper, "I helped."

Mara reached forward and patted his head. His hair was lank and felt weird against her fingers, but not unpleasant. "Yeah…" Mara said, embarrassed, scratching the back of her head, "I guess you did." She admitted with a small smile. She walked off the pier without looking back but when her feet crunched uncomfortably against the shell covered beach she felt compelled to look back. "Will I see you again, if I come here tomorrow?" Mara asked as she half-turned back. She was glad that she could blame the sunset's lights on her pink cheeks. Cole nodded his head. Mara's blush intensified as she realized how it sounded, "I'm not saying I will!" She said loudly, pointing her finger at him.

Cole nodded his head again. They both knew that she would. Mara shook her head and walked off. When she glanced over her shoulder, the spot where Cole had been was empty. She sighed as loneliness swept over her. Her only friend, and it was some mythological creature that shouldn't exist. Just her luck, right?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to see a continuation to a piece, please comment and let me know.


	9. Silhouette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologizing ahead of time for the short length.... Please comment and review and if you'd like any continuations, let me know! 
> 
> Pairings: None, Mara focused.

Mara gritted her teeth as the obnoxious voice of Envy droned on, filling the halls that it had created to trap her in. With each passing second Mara grew thankful that she was a dwarf and did not usually dream or ever go into the Fade. It seemed like an awful place to be. 

“You act so high and mighty,” Envy’s voice said, echoing all around Mara’s small shape, “Like you’re above what I show you. Like you would never. Is that true though, I wonder? What about all the things you did before. Are you so changed now, I wonder?”

Mara gritted her teeth. She remembered all the calls she had made as head of the Cadash family. The lives she had ruined. The people she had hurt. She always tried to mitigate the hurt and avoid it if possible. She arranged things so at the end of the day she could tell herself that they did it to themselves. She had given them a chance and they had blown it. It wasn't the full truth though, and she knew it. What else could she have done. She might have power over the Cadash family but she had little power in the Carta. They could ruin her, kill her, and her family. It was her duty to protect her family. 

“I did what I had to, to survive!” she howled at the ceiling, immediately regretting it. She shouldn’t be talking to the demon, she was only making it stronger. The comforting voice of the strange scarecrow boy came to her, Cole, “You don’t have to do any of these things. You can help.” His words washed over her. 

Could she help? She knew she was broken. She was a broken vase, smashed and cracked pottery on the ground. She was jagged and people cut themselves on her edges. But you can piece a vase back together. She was different from this Envy. Mara could grow and change. Envy could only copy.

Mara raced up the final steps and came face to face with Envy. She came face to face with her copy. Mara wasn't afraid anymore. Everything Envy had shown her had just proven to her how much she had improved so far. She knew she would never do the things Envy had shown. She was better than that. She was better than Envy. All Envy was a shadow. Not evenher shadow, but a shadow trying to pose at her. All the potential for darkness was reflected in this ugly shadowy depiction of herself, but it wasn’t her. This fake Mara was nothing but a silhouette. The real Mara was capable of so much more. 


	10. AU: Geometric Irony Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No Cole in this chapter. 
> 
> Pairings: friendship JosephinexMara, mentioned JosephinexBlackwall, slight MaraxBlackwall

 

Mara leaned forward on the bar resting her chin in her hands. Since the new club had opened up down the street not as many people came to the bar. Not that it mattered. The family bar wasn't here to entertain the normal masses. It was here for a very select clientele, the seedy underbelly, people who her father and brother dealt with. All Mara had to do was run the bar and look the other way, not that she had much of a choice, even though Cadash Bar was all she had to her name. It wasn't like she was laundering money or anything. She was just painfully aware that a lot of the people who came to the bar were part of the Carta, the Cartel of the Free Marches (though honestly all of Thedas). Technically she was a member as well, but only by family relations, in name only. Mara shook her head at her depressing thoughts and tried to focus on her dreams and aspirations. Maybe someday she'd save up enough money to move away from Free Marches and start up her own bar. Orlais was far enough but Mara thought she might like Ferelden or Antiva better.

Mara sighed again loudly. Her baby blues drifted out the window where the rain was pouring down hard. She thought about her day, earlier Blackwall had been in. He had been coming for a while now, Mara mused. He was slowly moving past bar regular into the territory of friend. Although Mara loved to see him, she wasn't sure if she liked their budding friendship (she couldn't use the word relationship, it would give her  _hope_ ). Pining over a stranger was easier than pining over a friend. Before, Mara had never had to talk to him, even if she had wanted to. Before, Mara had never run the risk of getting even more attached- or saying something stupid. Still, Mara had to admit, she liked being his friend. Perhaps she could be satisfied with that? Mara tried to ignore the way her heart dropped at the thought of only ever being his friend.

Her emotions made her feel guilty, Mara knew Blackwall was hurting just like her.  He managed to bring Josephine up at some point no matter what they were talking about. It was a cruel twist of fate that Blackwall happened to see Josephine after he had been cursed. They ran in completely different circles. Josephine was upperclass, Blackwall was directly in the middle class if Mara was being generous. The only reason Mara even knew Josephine, outside of Blackwall's obsessive love with her was because Josephine's siblings frequented her bar and on more than one occasion Josephine had shown up to drag one of her rowdy siblings out. 

Mara sighed again, feeling particularly melancholy. The worst part of the situation was there was no way to rationalize it. Mara didn't have the luxury of claiming that Josephine was prettier than her or any of those things girls did when they were on the losing end of a love triangle. The whole situation was purely accidental. Blackwall could have saw anyone in that moment. He just  _happened_  to see Josephine. Mara tried to comfort her aching heart with what she would do that crazy witch, Calpernia, should she ever find her. There was a bottle of good alcohol with particularly hard glass that Mara was saving for the occasion. 

It had been a week since Mara had resolved to help Blackwall with Josephine. Mara felt as if she were getting no where with her resolution. She hadn't even given him advice yet. To be fair, she didn't have much advice to give. What did she know about winning crushes over? Her first love was with Blackwall, and that was a doomed love manufactured by a witch. Mara's thought process stopped abruptly at that. She had never realized how utterly  _depressing_  that sounded.

Mara shook her head again. She couldn't wallow in despair, that wasn't going to get her anywhere. Deciding that she needed to do something or else she would continue to dwell, Mara pushed her weight off the counter and began to survey her bar. It was empty. On a rainy night like this she was unlikely to get any stragglers in. It was best to close up shop. She walked around the bar, getting everything ready for closing. Mara was just pulling on her jacket to leave when the door flew open and a dark skinned girl with a plethora of files bustled into her bar letting in the cold and the rain.

Mara openly gawked at the flustered woman who was trying to secure everything in her arms. What in Thedas was Josephine Montilyet doing in her bar? There were obviously no siblings for her to drag out. Someone like Josephine did not hang out at Cadash Bar. Josephine looked at Mara, her jacket already half off, her hazel eyes dimming as they took in Mara's state of departure. She let out a groan of utter despair. "Do not tell me you're closing up already?" She begged in her Antivan accent, "But you aren't supposed to close for another hour or so!"

Mara stared at her blankly for a moment, still trying to process what had just happened. "It's pretty dead," Mara managed to say after a second. Her voice sounded strained and weird to her ears; she faked a cough as an excuse to pause a moment to gather her composure, "So, I was going to close up early…" she trailed off. Mara almost never closed early. The money was already spent, she lost the opportunity to make money by closing early. There was nobody at her small apartment to miss her. Still, in a twisted sort of way, it would be rather satisfying to throw the woman who stole Blackwall away from her out of her bar. Oppertunities to get even with your rivals and have a personally rational and logical reason for doing so barely happened in a person's lifetime after all. 

"I can keep the bar open for you," she said instead. Mara looked just as surprised as Josephine did by her words. She mentally berated herself while trying to figure out  _why_  she had said that. Was she doing this for Blackwall? What wouldn't she subject herself for his sake?

Luckily, Josephine was too relieved to even notice Mara's shocked face, "Oh thank you, Miss Cadash! You are a treasure!" She exclaimed, bustling over to the bar. She dropped her slightly soggy files onto the table. Mara winced. She had just washed the table and now she would have to again. Josephine bustled back and took off her drenched coat, hanging it on the coatrack that Mara was suddenly thankful Cole had dropped off a day or so ago. He always seemed to know just what she needed.

Her thoughts of Cole warmed her a bit and made Mara more able to deal with this bizarre situation. Mara slowly made her way back behind the bar, dazed, "Can I get you something?" She asked. Josephine asked for a drink, an expensive drink. Mara couldn't tell if Josephine was just a snob about her drinks or if she was trying to make it up to her for keeping the bar open by buying one of the more expensive drinks. Either way, Mara made her the drink and passed it to her. Mara could admit that she had been tempted to spit in it. She had resisted the baser desire. After all, it wasn't Josephine's fault at all that she had captured Blackwall's heart.  

Mara was surprised to discover that despite the strangeness of the circumstance that the novelty wore off quickly and she found herself Bored. She tilted her head slightly and watched Josephine pour over the documents she had been carrying. From what glimpses she caught of them, they looked complicated, boring, and tedious. "What are you working on?" Mara honestly didn't care about Josephine's life. She didn't want to talk to her. She didn't want to know her. Petty as it was, Mara had a fierce dislike for her on the principle that Josephine was unwittingly making her life miserable. But, she was bored, and boredom drove people to do strange things. "Oh, I wouldn't want to bore you," Josephine protested politely. Mara looked around at her empty bar and raised an eyebrow. Josephine laughed and nodded, "Alright, if you insist."

Mara quickly discovered that Josephine needed no partner to conversing. She told Mara everything Mara could have thought to have asked about, without any prompting. Apparently Josephine worked for an Antivian company that was just opening branches into the Free Marches. Her boss was a workaholic who didn't seem to understand that not everyone was. Although in Mara's opinion, Josephine seemed like a micromanager who couldn't pass off tasks to others because that would mean relinquishing control. Josephine was one of three assistants who worked for this CEO. There was a young man named Dorian who drove Josephine crazy with his flippant manner. The other was a young woman who was Josephine's friend but was apparently too business cutthroat for her taste so they crossed verbs swords often over the acceptable way to handle, well everything. Despite Josephine's rambling Mara  was horrified to discover that Josephine was  _pleasant_  to be around. To Mara's mortification, she discovered that she enjoyed Josephine's company.

"Ugh, Dorian never takes anything seriously, unless it suits him. Everything is just one big joke! Never mind that we have three high profile clients who need to be briefed. And every time Leliana offers to help her ideas are so manipulative and cruel I feel guilty for even thinking they might be a good idea!" Mara chuckled, "I know what you mean."

"You have a friend like that?" Josephine asked.

"Try my whole family."

Josephine laughed, "Do not get me started on my family."

"I know your family plenty. They are regulars."

Josephine groaned, "Do not remind me. I know your name so well because of how often I see it on our bills."

"Well thank you for paying for the new lighting," Mara joked. Josephine laughed before blinking as if just remembering something. "Maker! Have I been complaining for an hour?" She asked. "Two actually," Mara said with a laugh. Josephine shook her head, "I apologize-" Mara cut her off with a wave of her hand, "I'm a bar tender, I'm used to it. And besides I find you much more amusing then my usual customers who whine, puke on my floor, and then pass out." Mara was surprised and confused that she  _meant_  every word. 

"I am glad you consider me a step above that," Josephine responded with a wry smile, "This... this has been fun," she agreed, sounding just as surprised as Mara felt, "I really needed someone to talk to you. You are a very good listener. I see why your bar is so popular."

"You should stop by again sometime."

"I should," Josephine agreed with a slight smile, and she left Cadash bar with a lighter feel then she entered it with. Mara watched her leave before slamming her head down on her counter, not caring about the pain that immediately shot through her head. If things were screwed up before. Now things were  _royally_  really screwed up. How could she like and hate someone at the same time?

"Why is it always me?!" She demanded to her empty bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave kudos and comments! If you want a continuation please let me know!
> 
> Massive edits done on: 2/12/15


	11. The Man and the Dwarf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole and Mara's first real interaction outside of her head.

Mara had just gotten back from a rough trip to the Storm Coast and was making her rounds checking in on everything and everyone. She had always been a bit of a micromanager and even though she wasn’t the leader of this rag-tag group, Mara couldn’t help being a bit of busybody and make sure everything went the way it was supposed to.

The next thing on her literal to do list was Cole. The strange man had carved out a small piece of her mind without either him or her realizing it. He was always on her mind, or in a corner of her mind. Perhaps it was some anxiety that she would forget him. Mara had always been praised for her memory, she hated the idea that in this area she couldn’t trust it.

Also, she just worried about him. Nobody was happy when she decided to let him stay, but after running the Cadash family business and dealing with and in the Carta for a few years now, Mara had long since gotten used to people not agreeing with her decisions. It’s not like she could ever make everyone happy anyway. Mara shut up all of the malcontents by informing them that if they would like to be the Herald and if they would like to make all of calls, then they should by all means. It’s not like Mara  _asked_  to make decisions, everyone else just seemed determined not to.

Mara wouldn’t admit it because it would ruin the carefully crafted wall of distance she keeps between herself and everyone, but she sort of likes Cole. He’s strange and his connection to the Fade confuses her (the Fade confuses her). But when she was fighting Envy within her own head. When she was alone with nobody to turn to while she was tortured in ways she had never thought possible, Cole had helped. He hadn’t wanted anything in return, just to help. Mara didn’t know how to deal with someone like that, everyone wanted something, but she could recognize how valuable he was. So if he wanted to stay, he stayed.

Cole still had a hard time fitting in though, mostly because nobody could ever find him (which put everyone on edge). He appeared and disappeared randomly and nobody who interacted with him seemed to remember it at all. Mara was a bit jealous. She no longer had the luxury of playing the vanishing game. Still, Mara was able to find him when she wanted to.

She finds him on the roof of the little house (though really its just a large room) that was given to her. The thought crosses her mind that perhaps he was waiting for her but she shakes it off.

“Hello Cole,” she calls up to him, scaling a ladder that she had requested and sliding on the roof beside him. Cole makes room for her.

He nods in his strange way, his hat flopping about and obscuring his face. He doesn’t look her in the eyes, but then he rarely does.

“Did you want something?”

“You were talking to everyone one, I was next.” It ought to be a question but it isn’t. Mara shakes her head ruefully.

“Yes, I wanted to see how you were taking to Haven. We haven’t really spoken since you joined,” Mara says trying to keep her tone similar to Cullen’s, a commander who cares, but keeps distance between himself and those he’s in command of. It’s the tone she uses when she talks to everyone. They don’t want her to be a person, they want a symbol and Mara is happy enough to oblige.

Cole looks at her strangely, “You left, after I arrived,” he points out.

Mara nods her head, not knowing how to respond to him just stating a fact, “Restless. Checkmarks on a piece of parchment. Flurry of movement. No time to stand still. Moving is better though. Thoughts that flurry around are stilled by movement. Keep moving.”

“I’m staying in Haven long, if that’s what you’re trying to say,” Mara cuts off. She hates to be rude but she doesn’t want Cole to continue, “We’re going to the Fallow Marches…” she trails off looking off and to the side at Solas arguing with Sera, probably about some elfly thing. Blue eyes roll, but lips, chapped from the cold air, tilt up slightly. She turns her head back to Cole, “Do you want to come?” She asks on impulse. Not sure what quiet makes her ask.

Any doubts disappear from her mind when she sees Cole’s thin lips turn upward. His smile makes her lips tilt a bit but she smoothes it out. She can’t show favoritism.

“I want to help,” Cole says, looking at her like a puppy. 

Mara shakes her head. There is a haunted look about him but there is also so much sweetness and hope. She doesn’t understand how someone can be so young and so old at the same time, “Alright then, we leave at dawn.”


	12. Goodbyes and Endings

The sun hasn’t even fully risen as Mara creeps into the tavern. It’s deserted but unlocked - well everything’s unlocked to a rogue. Her feet make little noise as she mounts the steps. Her blue eyes flicker towards the hallway that will lead her to Sera’s room. Guilt settles on her. Will Sera forgive her for leaving like a thief in the night? But she turns to face an even bigger guilt, the mounts the next staircase that leads her to Cole.

Since he became more human, Cole had actually started to need human things, like food and sleep. He had taken to living in the tavern on the third floor. There was a spare room that Mara had cleaned up for him. It wasn’t too far from him regular haunt. She pushed open the door softly. The first rays of the day were shinning through Cole’s window. Mara shook her head ruefully. It was too cold to be sleeping with the window open.

Her blue eyes fixed on Cole’s frame and a soft smile crossed her lips. He was breathtaking. Mara wondered when all this had happened. How had she, a stone hearted woman, come to be softened by someone who was so fundamentally against her nature? It’s in this moment, the moment when it’s far too late that she realized that she loves him. 

Mara crossed the room to his bedside. Her spot is too close. It feels awkward to her, like she’s a puzzle piece trying to play a part in a set she does not belong to. But, by the stones he’s beautiful. The pale dawning light falls across his face, illuminating his sharp features. For a man whom Mara thought as soft and gentle, he was cut like stone, jagged and sharp. In this way, he reminds her of herself, though her facial features are much softer. Mara’s fingers twitch, wanting to trace his features. The light accented his already fair hair, making it look more like a halo around his head. His usual hat was discarded not far from him, taking up the space beside him on the bed.

Melancholy settled on her as she stared at him. Would this be the last time she saw him? Her throat seized at the thought, and pressure built up behind her eyes. She didn’t have time for this. The rift was open again. She had to leave, now. Cassandra, Solas, and Varric were waiting for her. Mara would have gone alone, but Solas was insistent. Varric felt responsibility and Mara could not deny him his way of making amends, however unnecessary. And Cassandra had said that they should end this the way it began and that had been that.

She wasn’t here to wake him up. She just had to see him, just in case. Yet she found her hand crossing the space between them and seizing his shoulder. She shook him gently, “Cole,” she breathed quietly, still wavering between leaving without a word and saying goodbye.

Groggy blue eyes open and a groan parted from his thin lips. He turned away from her and then back, “Mara?” he asked, his voice heavy with sleep. He peered up at her, his hair was tossed this way and that and drool lingered on his lips. Mara almost laughed at the sight. Here she had been romanticizing him and she hadn’t even really been looking. She reached forward and brushed his hair out of his face so she could see his blue eyes. Her fingers slipped down from his forehead to his cheeks till she was cupping his face.

His hair is a mess, resembling a nest for birds. His morning breathe was really quiet awful. His eyes couldn’t focus in on her face, but to Mara he was still the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on, “I’m leaving, Cole,” she breathed, softly, into the darkness that her shadow cast across the slowly lighting room.

Cole blinked blearily, crust lingered in the corner of his eyes, “Where are you going?” he groaned, not understanding her words.

She shook her head, “It doesn’t matter. I’ll be back,” she almost choked on that last sentence. It was unfair promise. She had no idea if it were true or not, “I just wanted to say goodbye…”

“‘bye,” Cole murmured sleepily and Mara wondered if he would even remember when he next woke up. It didn’t matter. Hearing his voice, seeing those wonderful eyes. It was enough.

“Go back to sleep,” Mara stumbled over her last word, “love,” she blushed but Cole just nodded and turned over, falling back asleep. She smiled at his back. Her hand lingered on his shoulder and trailed down his back slightly before she pulled her hand away. Emotions seized her and she put her hands to her face, covering her eyes, which leaked for the first time since she regained her memories from the Fade. A few droplets fell to the floor, staining them. A shaky breath and she’s gathered herself. Her hands jerked away from her face, snapping up her hood over her tightly bound blonde hair.

She turned and walked to the doorway with purpose before hesitating. She turned quickly on her heel and shut Cole’s window. The room was now dark and left a bad taste in her mouth but a single crack shone through, illuminating the back of Cole’s head. Mara smiled wistfully, then turned and walked out of Cole’s room, gently shutting the door behind her. 

She made her way out of the inn, though to her shame she was nearly sprinting at the end. She shut the door firmly behind her and looked at Varric who was waiting for her, a sad look on his face.

“You alright?” He asks. Mara would blush if she had the energy to. Had Varric known her feelings before she did or was he discovering them at the same moment as she? Mara acknowledged the thought and let it pass. Romance was not something that needed to be on her mind. Today she had the end of the world to advert. 

She nodded tightly at Varric, pulling her hood further to cover her face in shadows, “Let’s go,” she said, voice firm. No shaking gives away her distress. As they walk away Mara turns her head, looking back at the inn. It feels like an ending, not just a goodbye. Mara breathes a shaky sigh and turns away. She wills the thought away. She can do this. She can come back. She will come back.


	13. Falling Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anyone remember Falling? WELL HERE’S PART THREE!

Cole was frantic when they finish dispatching their enemies. Frantic compared to the Iron Bull and Dorian, which is saying something. Cole almost jumped off the cliff after Mara but was easily restrained by the Iron Bull. Normally the Iron Bull would be concerned that such a tall man was so light but right now he’s just thankful (and surprised his hands just don’t pass through him). “What is that going to help, squirrelly?” the Iron Bull demanded, his voice rumbling with anger. “We have to find her!” Cole screeched, causing the Iron Bull to wince. Cole's legs kicked in the air, like he was trying to punch it with his feet.

“I can’t hear her! I can’t  _hear_ her!” He yelled frantically. “The one who understands! The one who always watches and cares! The one that fears the darkness gone into the darkness!  _I can’t hear her_!” His frantic eyes turned upward to face the Iron Bull. A pang of sympathy filled the Iron Bull’s chest and a feeling of dread. The Iron Bull cared for the Inquisitor in his way. To see her little blonde head disappear over the side of that cliff, it would give him nightmares. For how long depended on whether or not they found her, and how they found her.

“Calm down, we’ll find her.” The Iron Bull tried to comfort Cole (and himself). His eyes slid to the right, giving Dorian a sidelong look. The Tevintar’s face was ashen and the blade of his staff is still imbedded in the eye of an enemy who had got too close. Dorian hadn't appeared to have moved since the fight ended. The Iron Bull sweared under his breath, wishing that Biscuit would have brought Solas or Vivinne instead. Someone who could have held their head. Though, the Iron Bull admitted to himself, that had anything happened to anybody but Mara, Dorian would have held up just fine. “We’ll climb down the side of the cliff, and look to see where she might have gone," The Iron Bull said, taking charge of the situation. Even though he _was_ a leader, it felt weird to be in command. That was Mara's job, "She’s a strong one. I’m sure she’s fine. But she could be injured and she probably needs help. So we just need to keep ourselves together.”

“I can’t hear her,” Cole kept muttering under his breath, but he didn't appear to be as crazed as before. The Iron Bull risked setting him down. When the boy didn't immediately run to jump, the Iron Bull stopped hovering. The Iron Bull started towards the animal trail that leads down to the bottom of the cliff. As he walked he passed Dorian, who has not turned his eyes from Mara’s fall, he paused. The Iron Bull clapped a hand on Dorian’s shoulder, starting the man from his stupor, “Get a hold of yourself,” he chided, “ _When_  we find her, we’re going to need you to heal her.” Dorian gave the Iron Bull an icy look but nodded his head, “Right.” For once he doesn’t mention how he’s rubbish at healing or how annoying it is to be tramping down a steep path. He had no quip, no joke. The Iron Bull wondered if he should be concerned. He doesn’t say anything. Cole, for his part, kept muttering how he can’t hear Mara. It’s an unsettling chant that’s frantic tempo set the pace for their march.

* * *

Mara stumbled along in the dark. Her eyes allowed her to see in the dark, or they _should have_. There was something wrong with this darkness. Mara took a shaky breath. If she couldn't see then the darkness wasn't natural. The ‘Helper’ must be causing the darkness, she determined, an unsettling thought. An icy chill took over her, but she kept her mouth shut. Calling whatever it is out could hardly be a good decision. 

Something moved in the dark, frantic steps, stumbling towards her. Before Mara could do anything but brace herself, something slammed into her, knocking her to the ground. Claws dug into her sides and her chest, and teeth gnashed, barely missing her neck. Mara couldn't see but it sounded and felt like a Deep Stalker. With a war cry that startled the creature, Mara lashed out. The Deep Stalker was put in a temporary stupor, which gave Mara the opportunity to crash her fist into the skull of the creature, killing it instantly. The creature went slack on top of her small but robust body.

“Impressive,” the voice of the ‘Helper’ came from the darkness. Mara knew the creature has been watching her the entire time. Perhaps it even allowed the creature to find her. Mara snarled at the darkness and pushed the corpse off her, crawling back to her feet. The green mark of the anchor pulsed against her hand, giving her the tiniest sliver of light. Mara took another deep breath, trying to steady herself. She never knew how afraid of the dark she was. She had never been in the dark before. Her eyes made the dark look strange, like a reality inverted. It was unsettling and as a child it gave her night terrors. It was worse not to be able to see at all. "How can humans live this way?" She wondered as panic seized her. If she couldn't see what she was facing how can she face it? She was walking into everything blind, like a stumbling helpless child. Her breath gets heavy and Mara fights back the frantic thoughts that tell her that she risked running out of air. The thoughts want her to run, to scream, to give up, to throw herself at the mercy of the 'Helper'. The thoughts are hard to steel herself against. 

“I can help, you know, little one,” the ‘Helper’ simpered. Mara felt the desire to accept, but Cole and the Envy demon flash in her mind as a warning. Rage exploded inside her and Mara lashed out in anger, striking the wall of the cave, breaking a few fingers. “SHUT UP!” she screamed into the darkness. The cave reverberated with the laughter of the ‘Helper’, “Ah, an explosive temper I see.” Mara bit her cracked and bleeding lips but said nothing. Her anger gave her the strength to continue. Mara resumed her stumbling through the darkness. She though she might be heading up.

Suddenly she stopped. There were spots of yellow against the wall of the cave, so bright it nearly blinded her. "Is that the sun? Is that the way out?" She thought frantic joy choking her. With a cry she raced forward, her tiny body slamming into a wall, “Cole?! Dorian? Iron Bull?” she cries, trying to see through the small holes in the wall. She was so close to the surface it hurt, “I’M HERE! I’M HERE!” 

She thinks she sees horns, a pale face and eyes wide with panic, the flourish of a staff but the floor beneath her is gone and she is falling into a pit. Her broken and bruised rips screamed in protest as they slammed into the ground. Mara is pretty sure she’s internally bleeding but she doesn’t have time to worry about that now. “Such an obvious trap…” the voice echoed around her. Mara gritted her teeth. Magic, she should have guessed. But the voice had never used magic. Was what she saw an illusion? Was it just a pitfall trap? The room she’s in light up with veil fire that mages sometimes lit up for them when they explored caves. "Such a shame. I could have helped you little one…"

“Well… shit…” she breathed as she saw that there was a giant scorpion taking of a majority of the room. All of its eyes fixed on her. The boney uncomfortable floor that she is lying on, Mara discovered to her horror, were piles and piles of skeletons, some armed, some not. She noticed the gleam of light off metal and she grabbed it blindly, cutting herself (a good sign) on the blade of the sword. She was no warrior. She wasn't her older brother, but she wouldn’t die laying down.


	14. Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry no Cole in this one!

Mara stared at her reflection in the mirror, checking her appearance over, “Hair up, or down?” She asked, turning to the small Dwarva child sitting on the floor near her mirror. To be fair, it wasn’t completely correct to call her child. She was just entering her teen years. The girl looked up from her pet Mabari and arched an eyebrow. “It’s just papa that wants to talk to you, sissy. Why are you so worked up?” She asked.

“Just papa,” Mara thought, her lips pulling into a thin line. It took work not to grimace. It’s not ‘just’ papa. He hadn’t been ‘just papa’ in a long time. He was the leader of their family. The Cadash were the crooked Dwarva nobility of the surface, one of the leading families of the Carta. If father had called her back from her work ‘out on the field’, back to the family house, then something big was going to happen. Mara hated surprises and she hated not knowing what this was all about.

“I think up,” Mara said with a smile down at her sister, who simply rolled her eyes in response. Mara pulled her curly hair back into a tight bun, pulling on her locks and tightening the bun until her hair looked practically straight. Only a few locks of hair that were too short to be contained gave away the curliness of her hair. She straightened her tunic and made sure her leggings fell nicely on her short, round legs. Lucy still wore dresses, but Mara was too involved in the family business for dresses to be proper. In a weird way, she sort of missed them. Dresses were a symbol of her lost childhood and innocence.

“You’re stalling,” Lucy said, looking up at Mara, a frown on her face. Mara shrugged, checking to make sure her daggers were all correctly in place. She couldn’t openly carry her bow but experience had taught her to never be completely unarmed. Mara looked down at her sister. Her eyes lingering on the scars that littered her sister’s fingers marring them noticeably. With a jerk she refocused her eyes on her sister’s face. “No, I’m just making sure I’m prepared,” she answered, reaching down and patting her sister’s head before heading out of the room. 

Mara trailed down the long hallways of the family estate. They had come a long way in a short amount of time. Mara could still remembered the first house they had lived in, even if it was just in bits of pieces. Lucy was the only one of all of the siblings to be born in the manor. Mara strongly remembered the smell of the old house. It had always smelt like burning cinder.

Mara knew her thoughts were stalling her, trying to distract her from the unpleasant task at hand. Her grandfather and father had made the Cadash name something to fear and respect. It had made them rich, and now they wanted to give it to her, when it was her brother’s birthright. This was her first time home since father had made his will known to them.

Mara reached the end of the hallway where her father’s office was located. The sight of the imposing wooden door was bad enough without her older brother Eric leaning against the wall beside it. He gave her a sideways look. “Mara,” he greeted. Mara schooled any reaction to her normally jovial brother’s tone. “It’s been a while, Eric,” she responded carefully. She wanted to avoid any infighting. Eric’s eyes narrowed, “So, your back from the frontlines, eh?” The words could have been friendly, if they hadn’t been spoken in such a hostile tone. Mara could read what his tone said behind his words  _‘yeah, I haven’t seen you since you stole my inheritance’._ “I appear to be,” she responded, refusing to rise to his challenge, “You weren’t hanging about the manor last time I checked.”

“I’m actually on the front lines, not behind them.” Mara didn’t need to translate that. Luckily, Eric continued to talk, giving Mara the excuse that she had simply forgotten his petty jab and saving her from having to respond to it, “Father called me back as well.” Mara wanted to ask if he was waiting for her, but it was an obvious question with an equally obvious answer and there was no reason to give her brother another opportunity to make another jab. Instead she replied with, “It must be a big deal if father called us both in. We’d better go see what the fuss is about.”

She moved towards the door but her brother beat her to it. He had the pleasure of heading in first but by holding the door open for her, he put her in a position of power. Mara shook her head mentally at his mistake. It was subtle, not something her brother, who preferred swinging his sword at things then critical thinking skills, would even think about, but it was the subtle things that mattered in their line of work. The look her father leveled at her let Mara know that he caught her brother’s slip as well. Mara sighed through her nose. There would be no talking her father out of the change to the will if Eric continued to refuse to learn about the things their father valued.

Mara took the seat on the left, letting Eric have the seat to the right. Her father raised an eyebrow at her and Mara responded with a guarded look of defiance. It wasn’t open on her face, but was just visible enough for him to detect, such were the subtleties of their relationship. 

“Father,” Mara greeted with a smile that looked real, but everyone in the room knew wasn’t, “It’s good to see you, even if it is completely out of nowhere, inconvenient, and demanded with no explanation.” Despite her strained relationship with Eric, he snorted with repressed laughter. Maybe that was why her father let the remark go without any rebuke, or maybe he appreciated her humor. “I suppose I don’t need to explain the troubles that the mage templar  _conflict_  has been causing to us, to either of you?” Her father asked rhetorically. 

Mara made a face that Eric mimicked almost exactly. Neither one of them had been left untouched by the conflict. Mara was constantly having to deal with missing lyrium cargo, replacing men who were killed in raids, and dealing with rogue templars after  _her_  mages despite the hefty  _donation_  she made. Eric had to actually fight templars and mages who got a bit too friendly with the merchandise or were actually stupid enough to try to attack some of the upper Carta members. After seeing what a lyrium addiction could do to a person, Mara almost felt bad for selling it (then she remembered that if she didn’t it sell it someone else would, so there was no reason for her to forgo profits).

“No, I believe we both have adequate experience with the difficulties it’s putting on us,” Mara answered. Eric snorted at the understatement. “Well, the leaders of both parties are meeting at the Temple of Sacred Ashes,” her father announced. Eric arched an eyebrow but thankfully did not outright laugh. Mara for her part, schooled her skeptical reaction but did lean forward, intrigued, “You both are to go to the Temple, posing as merchants-”

“But father, we  _are_  merchants,” Mara interjected winning a smile from her father. “Then it shouldn’t be that hard of a sell,” her father quipped back. “You are go  _as_  merchants and gather information for us about what is happening. The Head left this to our family, a great honor. Mara, I expect you to really make a show of your abilities. This is an opportunity to show everyone that you are strong and capable. Eric, you are to keep your sister safe. This is a great learning opportunity for you, so don’t squander it. You can also distinguish yourself here.” 

Eric didn’t say anything but Mara could tell from the way his muscles tightened that her quest to amend their relationship just got that much harder. “I understand, father,” Mara replied, standing up. Eric mumbled his agreement and mimicked Mara. The two headed out, and were not halfway down the hallway before Eric rounded on her. “Why do you always do that?!” He demanded, grabbing Mara by her wrist. It took everything Mara had not to immediately fling him off her but to allow him to grab her wrist and exert enough force that Mara felt uncomfortable. “Do what?” Mara hissed, unable to stop herself. She never appreciated being manhandled. “You and father. You make jokes and mess around. If I did that I would be considered pert or stupid or be accused of not taking it seriously. You get smiles and laughs! You  _always_  dominate the conversation, as if I’m mute or simply not there! How am I supposed to prove myself to father, when  _you_  won’t give me the chance?!”

Mara yanked herself free of his grasp, “Eric, if you want to talk, talk! I only talk because you  _don’t_. If you’ve suddenly changed in the past few months, that’s great. But as of, your entire life, you’ve always been afraid to talk around dad. One of us has to talk. I won’t look stupid to make you feel better, that’s not fair and more importantly that’s a waste of both of our time.”

“You’ve always been out for yourself!” Mara took a step back as if he had slapped her, “You know that’s not true, Eric!” she said, her voice pitching itself louder than she meant to, “Everything I do is for the family. I have given everything for the family. You and Lucy, I would do anything for the both of you. I  _have_ done everything for you both! You know that!”

“What are you saying, that I don’t?” Eric demanded. “No,” Mara sighed, rubbing her face with her hands. “But?” Eric pressed angrily. Mara looked up, “I’m sorry Eric, but we both know that out of the two of us. I love you, Lucy, everyone, more.” 

Eric stared at her stunned, “ _You?”_ he stumbled as if confused.

“You won’t sacrifice yourself. And I don’t mean physically, because I know you do and would. I mean it on a deeper level. You’ll always be Eric. You refuse to lose your identity, what makes you, you.”

“And you?”

“I recognize that I’m tool. A tool does its purpose. It doesn’t have an identity crisis,” Mara answered sarcastically, rubbing her forehead. She turned and began to walk back to her room.

She heard Eric’s lumbering footsteps behind her and wondered in the brief moments before he caught up to her how he had ever managed to be a part of the Carta when he was about as sneaky as a druffalo. “Just because I know who I am and-and have standards, doesn’t mean I don’t love the family as much as you!”

Mara didn’t even bother to turn around. She paused her walk long enough to reply, “By the family’s standards, that’s exactly what it means.” She said cooly and walked away. This wasn’t how she wanted her first conversation with her brother to go, and as she closed the door to her room and collapsed onto her childhood bed Mara could already see a hundred different ways, better ways, she could have handled it. But she hadn’t and she had to live with what she had said. She just hoped by the end of this mission she would have her brother back.


	15. Small Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tumblr prompt supplied by xthexforgottenxboyx : Cole and Mara go horseback riding.

“No,” Mara says firmly. Her hands on her hips. She glares up at Cassandra, then her eyes turn to Cole and Solas. “No,” she repeats.  “But Herald,” Solas tries, sounding much too smug to Mara’s ears, “The horse master _just_  gifted us, these magnificent horses. Are you really presuming that you shall walk, while the rest of us ride, through the entire Hitherlands?”

“I am not getting up on that beast,” Mara repeats, her voice steel. Solas blinks, surprised by Mara’s determination. He felt that if he continued pressuring he might lose a finger.

“She’s afraid. Guiding not leading. Far from the ground. It wobbles and shifts. Gripping tight, hands burn, then flying, then falling. World turning and spinning. Falling into the sky. Stomping feet. A choked scream.” Cassandra bumped into Cole purposefully, causing the boy to stumble away. “Enough,” she tells him pointedly, “It’a good horse, Herald,” she said, putting a hand on Mara’s shoulder, “It won’t throw you.” Mara’s eyes seemed to darken till her blue eyes were as stormy as the skies of the Storm Coast. They flickered dangerously in Cole’s direction, accusingly. Cole frowned, realizing he had made a mistake.

“We walked here, we can walk back,” Mara said, stubbornly. Cassandra scoffed and to both Cole and Solas’s horror and amazement, Cassandra  _picked_  Mara up and set her on the horse. “You’re being stubborn,” Cassandra scolded, “And foolish.” Cole blinked and stared at Mara on top the horse. She was afraid and indigent a look of panic on her face, yet arms were crossed deliberately over her chest instead of clinging to the horse like she wanted to. She reminded him of a stubborn kitten. Cassandra made to climb up beside her. “I’ll ride with her,” Cole volunteered, scrambled forward. He could tell from the look of discomfort on her Mara’s face that the last thing she wanted was to be riding a horse pressed up against a unsympathetic armor clad Cassandra. Cassandra raised an eyebrow. If Mara was afraid of falling off, she needed to be with a skilled rider. Cole was hardly a skilled rider. However, the boy had a way of cheering up the prone to melancholy Herald of Andraste. When Mara didn’t protest, Cassandra, grudgingly, let Cole take her spot.  

Cole scrambled onto the horse, awkwardly. He almost slipped a few times. Mara caught his arm and almost fell herself. Cole felt guilty for the scare he gave her. On his third attempt he got up. He sat in front so Mara could hide her face against his back and pretend she wasn’t on a horse. Her arms wrapped around his middle. If she were riding with Cassandra, her short arms wouldn’t have been able to fully wrap around. Cole stared down at her small round fingers that threaded together to secure her position. For a moment his attention was wrapped up in her hands. They were dark, marred by kisses from the sun. White lines traced over the darkened skin, scars from combat and from practice. When he looked hard he could see a small girl with short hair that curled around her face like a sunflower’s petals, practicing with her bow. Her fingers bled but she didn’t care. They reflected how she saw herself, a tool. Cole frowned. She was more than a tool, why couldn’t she see that? His fingers traced her fingers, his touch was light but he felt Mara stiffen. He pulled his hands away quickly, when her embarrassment swelled against him like waves against a ship. She was a tightly tangled pendent. She hurt in her entanglement but untangling hurt as well. Cole didn’t know how to help without hurting her.

He focused on the horse and the journey instead. But thinking about anything but her was difficult. Her body was pressed so tightly against him, he could feel the curves of her body pressed up against him- Cole was glad, though he didn’t know why, that Blackwall wasn’t here in his place. Cole had never been this close to her before. The closer he was the easier it was to see past the blinding light that the scar on her hand caused. He saw glimpses and glimmers of her behind the scar. Her connection to the Fade was broken, yet haphazardly reattached. She felt different from the other children of the stone.

“Stop thinking about me,” Mara’s voice was soft, muffled against his shirt. It felt strange to feel her lips moving against his back. “How did you know?” He asked, quietly, knowing she didn’t want the others to hear. “I can tell,” she said, Cole could hear the laughter behind her words. Some of the tension that being on the horse had caused was easing.

“It likes you.”

“Who?”

“Ebony.”

“The horse?”

“That’s its name.”

“It likes me, huh?”

“It does. It doesn’t want to drop you.”

“Well, if you say so.”

“You mean that.”

“What?”

“You say it when you don’t mean it. But that time you did.” Cole smiled, down at the horse, rubbing its neck in the way it liked. He glanced back at Mara, looking down at her. Their eyes met, “You trust me,” he breathed it like a prayer. Embarrassment swelled against him again, but this time it wasn’t sharp it was soft. A gentle wave. “Shut up, _scarecrow.”_ She grumbled. Cole laughed softly.


	16. Failed Valentine's Day part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Valentine's Day prompt from xthexforgottenxboyx. It’s short. I tried. xD This was a hard prompt! I went with a “Groundhog’s Day” angle.

Cole leaned back in against the wall. The more he thought about Valentine’s Day and Mara, the tighter his chest became. Cole couldn’t understand it. There were so many strange changes going on in his body, since Varric had helped him through the other Cole’s murder, that Cole was always in some state of confusion these days, especially when it came to Mara.

Whenever he looked at Mara, he found himself looking more  _at_  her then he usually did. The loose strands of blonde hair the curled around her cheeks, drew his eyes to the soft curves of her face. He was becoming intimately aware of the nuances of her hazel eyes, with all the different rings of blue, grey, and green. His eyes followed her body more than he had ever before. She could make his heart speed up, as if he were afraid. He stumbled over his words around her. And now, he  _wanted_  to get her something for Valentine’s Day.

It was strange,  _wanting_. Cole wanted things before, sure. He wanted to help, he wanted things that would help him help. But now, he was starting to want things for himself. Mara had talked to him about this, that it was okay to want things for himself. But was it right to want to be nice to Mara, not for her sake but for his? Cole gripped his head.

You didn’t give friends something for this holiday, Varric had told him this. So why did he want to? And why did the idea of being friends with Mara hurt? How could he not want to be her friend? He didn’t hate her. He really liked her. If he didn’t want to be friends, why did he want to spend every second around her? Cole felt like banging his head against the wall until his brain came to some sort of answer.

He had to talk to Mara, he decided suddenly. Part of Cole knew this was a bad idea. It screamed at him not to go. The desire to see her was stronger, so he ignored the voice. Before he knew what he was doing, he had a bunch of wildflowers in his hand and was in front of Mara.

Mara looked surprised when he suddenly poofed into the room. She half rose from her seat, reaching for her bow before she realized it was him and sat back down at her desk. “Cole?” She asked confused, her head tilting slightly to the side. It was just barely a tilt, but Cole noticed it. His heart felt a strange pull. Like there were hands inside him, trying to spread his heart like the cooks spread dough. He thrust the flowers forward. It was more like pushing the flowers into her face then handing them to her, and Cole instantly knew that he had messed up, “I don’t want to be friends anymore!” He announced forcefully. Cole wondered when his mouth had began to make decisions without him.

Mara made an estranged face through the flowers. Cole was hit by her confusion and hurt. What had he said wrong? He wondered frantically. “What?” Mara asked, trying to push the flowers out of her face.  

“No, I didn’t mean that!” Cole tried to backtrack. His thoughts were like a puzzle but all the pieces were scattered and he couldn’t put them together fast enough, “But I did. But, but not like that!” Everything was so confusing, Cole couldn’t tell the difference between what he was saying and what he was thinking.

Mara stared at him, looking confused and Cole knew that he had messed this whole thing up. He snatched back the flowers, “Forget,” he instructed Mara, fumbling over his words. Then he was back in his section of the tavern, with crushed wildflowers in his hand. He looked up at the rafters, “Shit.” He had to try again. He had to get it right.  


	17. Failed Valentine's Day part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another tumblr prompt. The temptation was to pick Blackwall was strong. Then there was my weird desire to pick Solas, but that totally breaks the canon so I didn’t pick that either. Went with a completely obscure character instead! XD jealous!Cole is difficult!

Ever since Mara had returned from the Exalted Plains, she had noticed she had a bit of a shadow. The Dalish they recruited, Loranil, seemed to be a bit attached. He was supposed to be working with Harding, but somehow (Mara suspected Josephine or Leliana) he had gotten moved to guard duty. 

Loranil was a nice boy, Mara could admit. A bit odd, but she blamed that on their drastically different upbringings. The fact that Loranil irritated Solas, without being high and mighty himself, definitely endeared him to Mara. It was a bit strange how he always seemed to have guard duty near where she was. She couldn’t tell if he were shy or not because though he always came up to talk to her when they bumped into each other, he seemed to have a hard time talking to her. “It must be strange”, Mara thought, “Adjusting to living in a place where you knew everyone, to suddenly being surrounded by strangers.” She seemed to be his only friend, so Mara tried to be a good friend to him. As much a friend as the Inquisitor could be a subordinate. 

It was on Valentine’s Day that Mara realized just how ‘attached’ her Dalish shadow had become. Loranil had asked her to take a walk around the garden. Mara had humored him, not really understanding where this was going (in retrospect she felt like a pretty awful rogue). He suddenly turned to her and pressed a pretty rose into her hand. Mara took it- not having much of a choice- she was surprised to find that he had dethroned it, that took a lot of dedication. 

“Inquisitor-” he stammered, “No! Mara. I f-found this rose… and I thought…t-that… w-well I know this rose is only h-half as beautiful as you… b-but that y-you would like it. B-because I like you.. a l-lot… and-”

Suddenly the garden was plunged into chaos. Mara swung her body away from Loranil, trying to figure out what had just happened. She was surprised to see Cole running towards them at a breakneck pace. His arms were _full_  of roses. At rough estimation, Mara guessed he had a hundred roses in his arms, give or take a few. He stopped suddenly right in front of her, causing the roses in his hands to jostle. A few petals fell from his grasp, and into Mara’s hair.

He dropped to his knees so they were at eye level. His perfect blue eyes bore intensely into hers and Mara felt heat start to pool in her cheeks. Any questions she had died on her lips. “You’re more beautiful than  _all_  these flowers!” He announced, stumbling over his words as he rushed the words, “I-If I picked all the flowers, you would be still be prettier. B-Because you’re more than just pretty petals! Your outside is pretty but your inside is _beautiful_! You’re fireflies on a dark night! You’re the star that doesn’t move and guides the wanderer!” Cole rambled, his eyes wide with panic.

His eyes flickered up to Loranil. Mara had no idea how Loranil was handling this. She couldn’t look away from Cole. A look of determination came on Cole’s face when is eyes moved away and fixed back on her. Mara gulped, noticing the change. This was the first time since they met that Mara could honestly say she felt intimidated by Cole. 

Cole rose up on his knees, making it so he was slightly taller than her. He secured the roses as good as he could with one hand, and nestled his other hand behind her neck. The next thing Mara knew, his mouth was against hers. 

Mara had kissed a fair number of men in her time. She hadn’t had such an awkward kiss since her first kiss when she was 10. But as strange as this kiss was, rushed, and inexperienced, Mara felt the passion and desperation. Her face felt like it was on fire and her heart was beating uncomfortably. Confusion clouded her mind.

What was Cole doing? Mara knew that he had become more human since Varric had talked to him. And Mara could admit that she had strange feelings for Cole that she didn’t understand and before now she had thought she didn’t  _want_  to understand them. Panic welled up in her. She wasn’t ready for this!

Mara’s head suddenly snapped forward, head butting Cole. The poor boy fell over in a shower of roses and rose petals. Mara’s mouth dropped in disbelief at her own action. She covered her mouth and for a moment was frozen in panic and horror.

“Inquisitor! I need a word with you, pressing business!” Dorian’s voice came from the entrance to the garden.

“Oh, thank the Ancestors!” Mara exclaimed under her breath. She jumped over Cole and ran away from both of suitors to Dorian’s side. She followed him into main building, her face still burning as red as a milk maid after her first kiss. Her hand slapped over her face, “I just head butted someone who tried to kiss me,” she said, looking up at Dorian horrified.

Dorian pulled a rose petal out of her hair and stared down at her, one eyebrow raised, “You did,” he agreed solemnly.  


	18. Failed Valentine's Day part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final installment!

Cole pulled at his clothes and stared at the imitation of him. His eyes flickered down to the imitation of Varric and then away, “She’ll like me if I change?” He asked, sounding confused and a bit sad. Varric groaned and pulled the nice suit that Vivienne had “donated” to the Coara (Cole and Mara) effort back into the place. “It’s not like you’re changing your personality, Kid,” he tried to explain. “You’re just changing your clothes for a night. It’s called dressing up.”

“And she’ll like this?” Cole pressed, excitement causing a wobble in his voice. Varric smiled and shook his head ruefully. “Don’t worry, Kid. She’ll love it,” he reassured, patting Cole’s back.

“Do we need to go over it again?” Varric asked. Cole’s lips pursed slightly. Even though with every passing day he was becoming more and more human, Varric continued to baby him. It was subtle and Cole knew he didn’t mean it badly, but still it hurt in a way that Cole was still struggling to understand.

Humoring him, Cole responded, “I’m supposed to give her the flowers, roses-” Varric was grateful that Mara’s favorite flower turned out to be roses. If not, Cole would have insisted on getting her flowers and ruined the whole romantic angle Varric was desperately trying to paint. He thanked the Maker, Mara’s favorite flower wasn’t a  _potted_  plant“-Chocolates,” Cole continued, “And then we’re going to that place Mara took me before, when…” Cole trailed off. He had come to grips with his- the  _other Cole’s_ \- death. But that didn’t mean that he liked to talk about it, or think about it. Varric clapped him on the back good-naturedly pulling him out of his thoughts that more and more Cole found himself sucked into.

“Remember, you’re the gentlemen, you’re supposed to pay,” Varric reminded him. Cole shook his head, “But I’m not a gentlemen,” he protested, “I don’t have a title or anything….” Varric shook his head, “No, I don’t mean that sort of gentleman. The man is supposed to pay for dates,” he tried to explain. Cole’s brow furrowed slightly and he tilted his head to the side. It felt weird to not have his hat flap comically to the side. Varric had insisted on no hat.

“That’s stupid,” Cole said bluntly. Varric blinked in surprise. “If I pay, she’s still paying.” Cole pointed out. “The pains of dating the boss,” Varric shrugged with a laugh. “It’s not the act that matters, but the thought?” Cole asked slowly, as if piecing the thought together aloud. Varric nodded. “See kid, you’re learning.” Cole wrinkled his nose. It seemed silly. People meant for all sorts of things to happen. People did bad things for good reasons. The expression was wrong. But perhaps it was meant to be applied only to these sorts of situations? Being a spirit was much more simple then being human. Cole felt a headache coming on.

* * *

Cole watched with wonder as Mara came towards him, exiting her room and walking along the walkway. She had been pretty at Winter Palace but this was something else entirely. The dress was simpler than the other dress. Her dress at the Winter Palace had been a piece of her; the piece she wanted to share with the world, who she wanted to be seen as, not who she was. It had been loud, and it had hidden and masked who she was. This dress was actually her. That she was wearing a dress at all made Cole’s heart swell. Wearing a dress at all was a big deal for Mara. It wasn’t just a dress. It was more than that. A little piece of her that only someone who knew her would be able to understand. It was a secret on display but only he could read it. It made him smile until his cheeks hurt.

Mara approached him and flicked his stomach. Cole wasn’t sure how ladies were supposed to act. He had only seen real ‘ladies’ at the Winter Palace and briefly at Therinfal, and that had been just confusing. He was glad that though Mara might look like one of them, she still acted like herself. “What are you staring at?” She demanded with her hands on her hips, though she was smiling through her stern position.

“You,” Cole answered simply. Mara’s posture immediately shifted from stern to shy. Her cheeks tinted pink and her hands folded together and her eyes shifted away from him and to the side. Cole found it funny, and cute (a new word he had learned from Cassandra while she was reading to him) how his honest answers got such a reaction out of her.

She recovered quickly and turned her head back to him, “Valentine’s Day, huh?” Cole laughed softly. Her mind was buzzing so much that even without the Anchor, and the slight handicap his humanity had brought to his ability, he would have trouble piecing together her thoughts.

“Oh, I’m supposed to give this to you!” He exclaimed softly, holding out the roses and the chocolates. Cole thought it was weird to give her the roses all at once when one rose a day would make her more happy then a bunch of roses at once. Varric had insisted, though. Cole decided that next time he would do it his way. His stomach immediately tied up into notes. He hoped there  _would_  be a next time. He couldn’t do do-overs to get it right. It would have to go right the first time.

“Oh these are so beautiful, Cole,” Mara exclaimed. If she could read his anxiety, which Cole was sure she could, she was overlooking it for now. She bustled back into her room to deposit her goods and returned while Cole stewed his anxiety about making sure the night went perfect.

Cole, to his embarassment didn’t realize Mara had returned till his hit his stomach with something soft. He looked down and saw her holding his hat. “You want it.” Mara said simply, holding it up. Cole shook his head. “I’m not supposed to wear it.” Mara frowned and threw the hat at him, forcing him to catch it. “Just wear the ancestors’ damned thing!” She instructed sternly, looking away from him pointedly, “You want to wear it. I want you to wear it. Who cares was some prissy Orlesian waiters think? I’m the damned Inquisitor. I closed a hole in the sky and saved the world multiple times. I’ll do what I want and the members of my Inner Circle will do what they want - well not Sera obviously.” Mara said, ruining the impact of her speech with a joke, however true.

Cole smiled and put on the hat. He was glad that she wanted him to be comfortable, and glad that she liked how he looked. Varric had made him nervous with this ‘dressing up’ idea. If he looked silly dressed up with his floppy ‘scarecrow’ hat, as Mara called it, Mara didn’t say anything and as far as he could tell she didn’t think it either.

She reached up and took his hand without out a word. In the books Varric had been having Cole read, couples were supposed to link arm, but that wasn’t really a possibility for them (Varric had assured him that walking on his knees, however well-intended, would not be well received). Her hand, her  _left_  hand felt warm in his hand. He could feel the outline of her scar, the Anchor, against his hand. A small smile played on his lips and his anxiety was forgotten. Mara allowing him to hold  _this_  hand was a big thing.

Mara looked up at him once, to catch his attention then looked away pointedly. Through her carefully tended blonde curls he could see her cheeks were slightly flushed, “Don’t worry so much. You’re great.” She mumbled. Cole smiled softly. She wasn’t good at showing her emotions publicly but he was glad that she was trying, for him. Even though he could tell what she really felt she wanted to show him.

He bent down and tucked some of the hair that was in her face behind her ear. He knew it was bothering her. “Shinning like the sun. Bright and warm to those close to her. You shouldn’t hide it.” He told her. Mara’s cheeks flushed more and she batted him away with her hand. Cole pulled back but didn’t let go of the hand she had given him. “Flirting!” Mara exclaimed as if surprised and scandalized, “Who taught you how to flirt?” She demanded. “I-” Cole began but Mara cut him off, “Never mind, don’t tell me.” There was an awkward silence and then Mara smiled and laughed, Cole joined in. His laughter was much quieter than hers but Mara never minded.

“Come on,” Mara said, her voice was light and the whole atmosphered seemed to lighten by just her mood, “We’ll be late and I’m actually starving,” she admitted. Hand and in hand, they headed out to the restaurant.  


	19. Mourning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mourning and comfort

It doesn’t hit Mara till she’s back from the Fade, back from Adamant, till she’s alone in her room. Her room is dark. She wants to fall to her knees and pray, but she has no one to pray to. The Ancestors wouldn’t listen. Her brother, she breathes his name like a prayer, dropping to her knees in the middle of her room. Her face drops into her hand and she lets out a cry of anguish.

Mara had known he was dead. He went to the Conclave with her, she was the only survivor. What she didn’t know were the moments leading up to his, and everyone else’s. Mara stood suddenly and grabbed the nearest piece of furniture and threw it to the ground with another cry. What had she thought happened?! She demanded of herself angrily. That she and her brother had made nice? That they had buried the hatchet between them? Mara kicked over the chair of her desk.

No, of course not! Neither one of them were capable of that. He was hurt and couldn’t help but lash out, and Mara had  _never_  been as understanding as to take abuse, even from one hurt.

If the Maker were real, Mara hated him. She hated him for being cruel and twisted enough for designing that she lived and her brother, who deserved to live, had died. But she didn’t believe in the Maker. She believed in the Ancestors and she knew that there was nobody to blame for what had happened but chance and herself.

The words she had spoken to her brother, her final words to him. Felt like ash on her lips. Mara continued to take out her self hatred on her room. Only the bed was left untouched. Left in the rubble of her room, Mara stood numb. Her big brother had died hating her. He had died blaming her, cursing her. She had left him to die with resentment in her heart. Eric was a good person. She wasn’t! How could it be fair that she was the one alive?!

“D-don’t think things like that…”a wounded voice comes from the balcony.

“C-cole?!” Mara exclaimed, whirling around. Her hair was a mess, half-out of her usual bun. She still smelt like the Fade, sweat, and blood both her own and the blood of others. Her armor was ruined after everything they went through - even her under armor that she wore underneath.  Mara was standing there in little more than a night shirt. But Mara was in too much of a volatile state to even notice that her legs were bare.

“How long have you been standing there?” Mara asked sheepishly, feeling suddenly embarrassed of the havoc she caused. It was a stupid question. It didn’t matter how long he had been standing there.

“Not long… I felt you…” Cole responded uncertainly. He walked into the room. Mara scrambled back. Out of everyone in the Inquisition she and Cole got on best. He was her closest friend and the first person she turned to when she needed support (not that Mara was in the habit of turning to turning to anyone, but the few times she did it was to Cole). But now, after discovering what she had done, Mara didn’t deserve Cole’s kindness. And at the same time, she didn’t want him to see her like this.

The back of her heel hit the dresser she had knocked over. Cole’s arm shot out, catching her wrist before she fell over, “Why are you hiding?” Cole asked softly, letting her go once he had righted her balance, “You’re real like this…”

Mara looked away, “Real? You mean a mess,” she spat. “If the others saw me like this-”

“They would worry, question, wonder…But I… I… I won’t… but you still hide? You… you don’t know how to take the mask off…?” Cole stared at her intently, the moonlight catching in his eyes making them illuminate. It’s very intense and Mara squirmed beneath his gaze.

“Cole, I know you’re trying to help…” she began and sighed, rubbing her eyes with her palms. She realized she hadn’t even cried for her brother. Guilt welled up in her.

“Don’t…” Cole said, he pulled her hands away and Mara blinked in surprise when she realized they were at eye level, him dropping to his knees. “You’re a shining light for others, a beacon. You’re kind. The mirror you see yourself through is tainted and broken. False.”

Mara smiled but it was a tight-lipped smile, false. “I live with myself everyday, Cole. I think I know what I’m really like. I took everything my brother and when he was rightly angry with me, I resented him for it. At the end he hated me, and I ruined every chance for a reconciliation because of my pride. Go on, tell me I’m wrong!” She pushed his shoulders angrily, but Cole knew she was really angry at herself and he would rather her push him then hurt herself. “Because I know I’m not! I know my brother. I know-  _knew_  him best. He hated me and I deserved it. I didn’t have any right to resent him for it. I didn’t have any right to make his last hours miserable. And I did.”

Mara turned away, stalking to another part of the room. Cole leaned back watching her go. “You were helping him,” he said quietly. Mara froze, her back to him. “Forcing a piece to go where it doesn’t go hurts the piece… but you didn’t fit either… Molding. Changing. Trying to fit. But the piece didn’t go. It hurt to watch.”

Mara turned back to look at him. Her glassy eyes reflected in the moonlight. “How could you possibly know how he felt?” She asked her voice cracking. “We go back to the stone when we’re done. Not the Fade. There’s nothing for you to read.”

Cole chewed on the inside of his cheek and carefully approached her. Mara recoiled and Cole froze. He wanted to make this better. How did he make this better. Suddenly the bottle Mara had been storing her feelings in burst and she fell down to her knees, crying like a child. Cole scurried over, crouching beside her. He rubbed her back and let her lean his weight against him. His emotions swirled. He  _should_  have gone to Adamant with them. Mara had known he didn’t want to. He would have if she asked, but she didn’t. He had told her he was  _happy_  she didn’t take him. He didn’t  _see_  how she was behind the Anchor. It took her wrecking her room for her emotions to reach him from behind the blinding light. Guilt gnawed at him. She was his friend. He ought to have been able to tell. Mara spent the entire night crying, only falling asleep in the wee hours of the morning. Cole stayed with her the entire night.


	20. Second Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fluff story nobody asked for!

First kisses Mara knew from experience are always awkward. They aren’t passionate like they are in books, especially the books a certain dwarf writes. They’re awkward, head butting experiences. Where you don’t know what you’re doing, you’re wondering if you’re doing it right, and you’re trying to develop mental powers to read the mind of your partner. The kisses that follow are where the magic happens. Mara’s second kiss with Cole  _is_ something right out of a fairytale, or maybe one of Varric’s sad excuses for a romance novel.  

She’s returning to Skyhold after Corypheus’s defeat. Solas is gone and that wound is fresh in her mind. They’re returning heroes but Solas’s betrayal leaves a bad taste in her mouth and spoils the victory. It’s selfish but she wishes he would have waited till after the party to leave. It would have allowed everyone to be happy and be together, just once. Her thoughts are melancholy instead of triumphant, like they should be. All she can think is “what next?”. What happens now that her purpose has been fulfilled? Varric can see the dark turnings of her mind and tries to distract her with jokes.

Cassandra lead Mara’s horse from the ground. As much as Mara hated horses, and she does, oh Ancestors she does, it’s  _slightly_  more dignified then arriving in Cassandra’s arms. Besides, she doesn’t need  _those_  types of rumors circulating, and Varric would undoubtedly play no small part in that rumor mill. Mara could walk a bit but she was slow and easily tired. Getting thrown into a brick wall and breaking one’s spine was not something a person walked off, even with a mage’s healing touch. Luckily, Solas had been around to heal her or else Mara would have been confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life.

Mara arrived in Skyhold with much pomp and ceremony. She insisted on walking through the gates, because this is her home and she refused to be carried into her own home. She had her pride by Ancestors’ beards! Despite all the pomp of the ceremony to Josephine’s horror, Cassandra’s disgust, and everyone else’s various degrees of amusement, Cole appeared in front of her. His grip is tight, but not enough to hurt her weak back, as if he already knew (and Mara wouldn’t doubt it if he did). Cole swept her off the ground, his arms tight around her middle. He’s grabbing her like she’s going to disappear.

For a second, that felt like forever, their eyes met. Stormy blue meet pure blue, as Cole gave her one of his intense looks. There was a love there that sends a thrill through Mara’s body. There was anger at leaving without saying a formal goodbye. There was relief that she’s alive and walking.. There’s a final emotion that Mara doesn’t have the chance to read before Cole acted upon it.

Cole’s lips came down crushingly onto hers, for a second there was bruising force but the pressure lessened immediately. It was passionate, not rough. Mara had never imagined  _Cole_  could kiss like that. She always thought he would be one of those sweet kissers, but there’s so much  _feeling_  in this kiss, Mara instantly realized that this is the only way Cole could kiss her. She felt everything in this moment, every part of him. She felt his sadness at being left behind, his worry, his deep love her, his immense relief at her safe return, his desperation not to lose her again. Mara felt more, but these feelings she does not give words to. It was too sacred for any words she could put them to.

Her arms instantly wrapped around his neck, hiding their mouths from prying eyes, although they’re still in front of everyone. Soft blond met dirty blonde as their hair pushed against each other, her loose curls intertwining with his flat, straight hair. It’s a desperate kiss, each of them, holding each other tightly, clinging to each other.

Applause broke out, and Mara swore she heard a couple of people whooping. She distinctly heard the Iron Bull, Varric, and Dorian and made a quick, mental note to take her revenge upon them later. Cole and Mara parted, with no small degree of embarrassment on Mara’s part. But when Cole fixed her with those earnest eyes she couldn’t help but smile and forget her embarrassment about being kissed (kiss feels like to small of a word for what happened but Mara is no poet and she can’t think of another word for it) in front of  _everyone_. Because she would kiss Cole in front of the Chantry, in front of Empress Celine and her court of backstabbing fools, because he was Cole and he wanted to kiss her.

She smiled at Cole, a small, shy smile. A  _real_  smile, not one of her fake diplomatic perfect smiles that sometimes slipped out in casual conversation, because Mara hadn’t wanted to smile in a long time. It wasn’t a perfect smile, but that’s okay because its Cole and he loves her because she’s Mara and not because the mask she often wore.

Cole doesn’t set her down but switches her hold so he’s holding her like she’s a princess. Mara fought every impulse that’s told her to hide her face in her hands and she willed a blush down. Cole carried her off to Vivinne for healing without a word. After that, Mara wasn’t sure what was left to be said anyway.  


	21. AU: At Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1920’s!mobster!AU Mara is a mobster and Cole is a police informant who wants to save her.

The Carta weren’t ones to be be messed with. They ran the bootlegging “business” all up the East coast. The Cadash family was a prominent member of the glorified gang, rising from the slums of Harlem and going strong. The three eldest children Jacob, Mara, and Eric were the most notorious members of the Cadash family. Jacob was known for his cruelty, an enforcer. Mara was known for her death-defying stunts. She was the bootlegger of the group, running about on dark, narrow roads in a car designed by Eric to be the fastest thing alive. She had yet to be caught and she was the main irritant to the police.

Cole watched Mara from his seat at the club. It was really a bar, the alcohol supplied by the Carta. Highly illegal, Cole could get them all arrested now, but the important people would be gone before the police could get here. They would get a bunch of nobodies and they would open up a new club. It had taken months for him to get inside. His mission was to find out about Mara and tell the police what they needed to catch her in the act.

Mara was a very short young woman. Her hair fell in short corkscrews down to her neck and bounced around her full cheeks. She was dressed in a bright blue drop-waisted dress with orange accents. It showed her shoulders and ended at her knees- not something Cole was used to girls wearing. Hanging from her neck were a long string of pearls. Currently Mara was in the arms of a bald gentlemen that she appeared to have bullied into dancing with her, judging from the cheeky look on her face and the slightly miffed looked on his.

Her eyes spotted him and Cole quickly looked away. Of course, Mara spotted it, and made her way over. She leaned against the bar table and gave him a look over. Cole blushed. He hadn’t ever met a girl so brazen before. Nor had he met a girl with such  _blue_  eyes. It was like looking into the heart of the ocean. A grin pulled on her lips, “See something you like, blondie?” She asked slyly, batting her long eyelashes at him.

Cole gulped. Varric would have referred to her as a ‘man-eater’ but she didn’t actually eat men.

She laughed, “Oh my, you are a mouse though,” she giggled, she leaned her cheek against her hand. She gave Cole a long look that made him thankful he was already sitting. Then she took a seat on a stool beside him. Cole stared at her. She had a sweet sort of giggle, it reminded him of the young girls who played outside his apartment. It didn’t fit and made him curious about her.

Mara suddenly pounded the palm of her hand on the bar top and yelled some words at the barkeep and he sent two drinks down to them. Cole stared at her, “How did you do that?” He asked.

“Order drinks?” Mara asked with a laugh.

Cole blushed. He meant how did she do it so forcefully, and catching them before they flew off the bar itself. He found those words wouldn’t come out of his throat. He felt shy around strangers in general but around someone like Mara he was positively tongue-tied.

“For you,” Mara said, nudging one of the glasses in his directions. Cole stared. He was pretty sure  _he_  was the supposed to be the one giving her drinks.

“You could use it, Blondie. Lighten up a bit, yeah?” She smiled.

Realizing it would be rude, and suspicious, not to drink. Cole did drink, hoping that he wouldn’t get in to much trouble for breaking law while undercover. The alcohol burned his throat. He coughed hard. Mara let out a laugh. This laugh fit her. It was loud and boisterous and not like any of the laughs of the ladies Cole knew. Cole couldn’t decide which laugh he liked better, but Mara stopped his internal conflict when her palm came down sharply on his back to help his coughing fit, “You’re a light weight, eh?” She asked, laughter in her tone. Cole couldn’t help but smile back at her and shrug. Her good mood was infectious.

“I’m Mara,” she introduced coyly, “What’s your name? I can’t just call you Blondie all night.”

“Cole,” Cole introduced, blushing. Was that an innuendo? He wasn’t good at this socializing thing. Varric had tried to teach him and Cole struggled to remember his lessons.

“Nice to meet you Cole,” Mara smiled, a coy look on her face that made Cole feel flustered.

A man, with the same blonde hair as Mara but with eyes as black as night, set his hands roughly down on Mara’s shoulders, dangerously close to her neck. It rather looked like he was about to choke her. Cole half stood up, but Mara quickly sent him a sharp look that sat him back down.

Mara smiled then, a fake smile, but it looked almost real and turned and looked over her shoulder, “Jacob,” she greeted. Cole froze. Jacob Cadash. He had killed three people just last month, rivals to the Carta gang and rivals of the Cadash family. He had beaten a cop nearly to death, recently as well. Mara’s eldest and most dangerous brother and heir to the Cadash family.

“Mara,” Jacob said, his voice like slim, “I noticed you dancing with Solas.”

Mara shrugged her shoulders, “Somebody had to get that stick out of his -” a squeeze cut off whatever vulgar phrase she had been about to say. Cole’s body unfroze and his hand twitched towards this long knife hidden in his waistcoat.

“Good job, you should try to  _solidify_   _our family’s_ relationship with him.”

“Should I turn him to stone?” Mara quipped but Cole could see her struggling to keep back a sneer.

Jacob laughed, it was an unpleasant sound that sounded like sandpaper scratching. He leaned down close to Mara’s ear, his hands seemed to tighten against her flesh. He muttered something in her hear that made the daredevil woman go stiff. A tight nod followed and then Jacob pulled away his fingers leaving her flesh much slower then Cole would have liked. Cole liked to think of himself as relatively nonviolent. But he wished he could have stabbed Jacob in the kidney for laying his hands on Mara.

“Are you alright?” He asked once Jacob was out of hearing range.

Mara smiled but it seemed a bit forced, “I’m fine,” she said dismissively. Cole frowned wondering if they should be going after Mara. She seemed like another victim to Jacob Cadash. He seemed like the  _real_  threat.

“Do you dance?” Mara asked suddenly.

Cole jolted and stared at her, “What?”

“Do you dance?” Mara repeated slower, a laugh dancing on her lips.

Cole, happy to have Mara smiling again replied honestly, “I’m not sure… probably not well…”

Mara laughed and jumped up. She looped her arm through his and pulled him from his seat. For such a small thing she had a strong grip, “Really? A handsome fellow like you?” She asked, pulling him to the dance floor.

Cole felt his heart pounding in his chest. He was dancing with  _the_  Mara Cadash. Was this supposed to be how it was supposed to go? And he was  _dancing_ , Cole didn’t know how to dance and yet he was and he didn’t think he was doing poorly. He had been watching everyone dance for a while, he must have learned by watching. 

Mara was surprisingly frail in his grasp. She didn’t feel like a gunslinging bootlegger. Right now all Cole saw was a young woman in a dangerous situation, with dangerous family members who didn’t have her best interest at heart.

Cole wanted to save her. Mara looked up at him a flashed him a bright grin that almost made his heart stop. Her small hands yanked on his tie, causing him to bend down. Then she shameless pressed her lips against him. It only lasted a second, Cole couldn’t even react before Mara was flittering away to the other side of the room to talk to a boy the Cole remembered from a photograph to be her other older brother, Eric. Cole resolved as he watched her walk away that he  _would_  save her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are encouraging!


	22. Falling Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next installment in the Falling story. This took me a while because writing combat is exceedingly difficult to make entertaining. There’s a reason why superheroes are comic book characters and Jane Austen is written in novel form…

While it was important to have a weapon in hand, Mara still had to acknowledge that she was outclassed. The scorpion had size on Mara, although to be fair, most things did. It had had a better weapon having both its pincers and its long poisonous tail. It was faster and it was uninjured. It hurt to admit but Mara was pretty sure that she wasn’t going to win this fight. Of course, she banished all such thoughts from her head as soon as she noticed she was thinking them. Those were the sorts of thoughts that got people killed. As long as she held on to whatever reckless, unlikely hope that she not only could win, but _would_ win, she had a chance. 

The scorpion didn’t wait for Mara to gather her nervous. It’s powerful, poisonous tail snapped down, aiming for Mara’s small figure. Mara swerved out of the way of its attack. Its stinger barely missed her, smashing through the skull of another hapless victim of the pit. Mara winced, not only was a strike from the stinger fatal because of the poison, but the attack itself was so strong it was likely to kill her regardless. 

Mara’s mind whizzed with strategies, trying to grasp at any plan that would get her out of this alive. The first thing her mind seized on was movement. She  _had_  to keep moving. Her body, strongly disagreed with this plan, as it was sore, broken, and fatigued. But her brain was pumping enough adrenaline that the pain instead of overriding her mind, was something just buzzing in the back of her head, like a fly. 

Mara began to move. If she kept moving, the scorpion would have a slightly more difficult time hitting her. As she moved and realized how sluggish and uncoordinated her movements were, Mara realized her second problem, time. This beast of a scorpion was not going to tire before she did. Already, Mara could feel the effects of fatigue clouding her mind and there was only so much her body could do to try to negate these effects out of self preservation. Whatever her plan was, it had to be accomplished quickly.

Mara ducked out of the way of another swing of the beast’s pinchers that threatened to cut her in half. Her eyes darted around trying to find an advantage. The chamber they were in, she realized, was rather small (at least in comparison to the scorpion). The room was the size of two of the scorpions, heavily limiting the creatures movements.  If Mara could get behind it, she would achieve a small advantage over the beast.

Mara’s paced increased, and though the scorpion tried to scuttle its legs faster to keep Mara facing its front, Mara was just slightly faster, along her to reach the side of the creature. Running around it, though, Mara was quickly realizing, was impractical. So instead, she threw her weight to the side, narrowly avoiding a swipe of the creature’s left pincher, and rolled beneath the monstrous scorpion.

Rolling with a sword in hand, was not an easy feat, especially when Mara had little to no experience with handling one, but she managed a shakily roll about halfway. Laying on her stomach beneath the creature Mara suddenly realized that she had happened upon a better advantage then getting behind the monster. The scorpion couldn’t attack her when she was under it - or at least, it couldn’t easily. Rising on her knees up to a crouching position, which was about the highest she could rise while underneath this creature, Mara switched her hold on the sword so the point was up. The exoskeleton of the scorpion looked hard, but all Mara could hope for was that her sword was stronger than its skeleton. Gathering her strength Mara stabbed up, using her leg, back and, arm muscles to half stand up to give more momentum to her attack.

There was a painful shattering sound, and the blade quivered in Mara’s hands but the blade  _did_ pierce the exoskeleton of the giant beast. The scorpion’s body began to thrash and shake while Mara drove the blade deeper. The she took a shaky step forward and began to drag the blade along the creature’s body creating a deep, large gash. Every muscle in Mara’s body seemed to quiver as she drug the blade through the scorpion’s stomach. Blue liquid, blood she realized with disgust, splattered her body and soaked her hands, hair, and face. It got in her eyes, making her close them tightly, but Mara didn’t give up. She tore her sword out and drove it in again, this time dragging it to the side, creating a gash that would allow its insides to spill out of it. The scorpion’s thrashing increased and its pincers and tail attempted to reach underneath to strike out her. Mara tightened her hold and steeled her nerves, refusing to release her tight hold on her sword. Her war cry echoed through the champers. 

The scorpion’s shakes increased to the point where Mara felt as if she were experiencing a mini earthquake. With horror, Mara suddenly realized that if the beast collapsed in death, it would collapse on  _her,_ which was an experience she doubted she would survive. The choice she was faced with was, certain death if the creature collapsed on her, or the likely chance that the creature would be able to attack her (and most likely kill her) if she fled from beneath. Likely death, however, was better than certain death, so Mara made a dash for it (as fast as someone could dash while half crouching). Soon after beginning her flight, Mara’s choice was validated. The scorpion’s body began to sag, pressing slightly up against her back, as its legs began to fail.

“ANCESTORS PRESERVE ME!” Mara screamed and dropped the sword that saved her. There were only seconds before the beast gave out, and crushed. In a last ditch effort to escape being squashed to death, she launched her body forward using all her strength and momentum. Her shoulder slammed into the ground but Mara curved her painful fall so that her whole body would roll into the fall, and continue to roll.

The veil lights went out, and the creature smashed into the floor of bones. The room was deadly silent for a moment, and then the silence was broke by Mara’s pained breathes. Each breath she took was ragged and hurt, but she could still breathe. “I’m alive…” she whispered hoarsely, not quiet believing it. The voice of ‘the Helper’ did not return to mock her. Instead Mara was left in the darkness and the silence. The darkness was the not the darkness of before. Mara’s dwarven eyes were able to penetrate and see out into it. For the first time since she woke up, Mara realized that she was in fact, truly alone. 

As she lay there, too weak to move, Mara almost missed the Helper’s voice. The room of bones she lay in was a graveyard and Mara couldn’t help but fear she would be the next inhabitant.  _I have to get up and move,_  she thought desperately, but her body couldn’t comply. All she wanted to do was lay there and close her eyes.  _If I close my eyes, I might not open them again._  Everything around her hung heavy and dark and Mara could feel the darkness pressing in on her. The void of nothing that took her when she slept crept closer and closer. Fighting it was futile and the closer it came the less she  _wanted_  to fight it.  _I’ll just close my eyes_ … Mara thought as her blue eyes flickered closed,  _just for a second… I’ll close my eyes for only…. -_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are encouraging!


	23. Mario Kart AU!

“DID YOU JUST BLUE SHELL ME?! WHO JUST BLUE SHELLED ME?!” Yelled a very unhappy, Cullen from his spot on the floor in front of the Inquisition Inc. TV. It was the annual Inquisition Inc. Anniversary Day, which meant the games were on. The game being Mario Kart. The tournament had been fierce, and now only the top four were left.

Varric let out a whoop as he passed Cullen, who tried to accelerate back up after his blue bomb attack.

“I wouldn’t say you were Blueshelled, I would say you were BULL-SHELLED! HEYO!” Iron Bull cheered.

There was an audible amount of groans in the room, with only Sera cheering at the pun from her seat on the couch. Sera had been eliminated early on since she enjoyed causing chaos more than she did passing people.

“Holy crap, did you just bomb me, Biscuit?” Varric laughed, too incredulous at the great shot to be mad.

‘Biscuit’, or rather, Mara Cadash, silently nodded her head, staring unblinking at the screen.

“Boss takes this game very seriously, doesn’t she?”

“She’s been practicing all week,” Cole piped in, Mara was seated between his legs which were outstretched, pushing against the TV stand.

“It’s a little intimidating.” Josephine laughed from one of the many chairs that had been brought into the room.

“I will destroy you all...” Mara mumbled under her breath.

Cole laughed at Mara’s intensity.

“What was that, Boss?”

“… nothing…”

Leilana watched the screen with interest, rubbing her jaw. “Ms. Cadash’s strategies are impeccable as ever…”

“It’s a game!” Cassandra growled, “You play it. What strategy?”

“That’s why you’re lost~” Dorian sing-songed, bringing cookies into the room.

“Cookies!” Sera cheered, leaping over the half-finished beer bottles.

“Manners!”

“Careful!”

Blackwall and Vivinne chimed in, both irritated. Sera stuck out her tongue in their direction, while devouring a cookie. Solas said nothing, he was reading a book in the back of the room.

“Haha! I hate to steal victory from you Boss but - HEY, YOU HAD A BANANA?!” Iron Bull growled, “I’m out, I can’t beat boss.”

“Maybe I could have done something, if YOU HADN’T BLUE SHELLED ME!” Cullen shouted, looking away from the screen to shoot the Iron Bull a glare.

“Don’t worry Tiny! I got this!” Varric exclaimed excitedly.

“Bring it on…”

Varric’s enthusiasm dimmed a little at Mara’s serious acceptance of his challenge. He felt like he was challenging her to a duel to the death, not Mario Kart.

He flung his first of three green shells at his pint-sized boss. Mara pulled out another banana to block it.

“Damn!”

Mara gave no whelp of joy. Her grip on the controller tightened as she prepared herself for the next volley. The second shell was flung just as the finish line appeared on the horizon.

Mara took the upcoming curve sharply, the green shell whizzing past her character and crashing into the wall in an explosion of shell fragments.

“Crap!”

A small grin was developing on the short blonde’s face. Although to call it a grin would be kind. Perhaps a smirk.

“Last shot!” Varric waited till he was sure that he had Mara in a perfect lineup before he flung the last in final shot.

Mara’s fingers twitched and her character swerved to the side. The green shell missed her character by the barest inch.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”

Mara’s character flew across the finish line.

“Fine I’ll just take second- WHAT?! A BLUE SHELL?!”

Cullen laughed, “Revenge!”

“Tiny shot you, not me!”

“REVENGE!” Cullen said insistently.

Mara set the controller down as the rest crossed the finish line, “Victory…”

Everyone shook their heads, “You take this way too seriously… Biscuit,” Varric grumbled, sore over his embarrassing loss.

Cole’s arms came around Mara’s middle in a haphazard hug that Mara settled into.

“Rematch…?” She asked quietly, her serious aura still radiating.

Varric laughed uneasily, “I’m out.”

Sera jumped in, “Count me in, you’re going down, boss-lady!”

Mara nodded her head sagely, “I accept your challenge.”

Sera grinned and took Varric’s controller settling down on the ground beside Mara and Cole.


End file.
